Three Courses for Mr Malfoy
by Laurielove
Summary: When Lucius Malfoy one day comes across three disgruntled witches, he is only too happy to help improve their mood. LM/PP, LM/GW, LM/HG. M readers only, please.
1. Prologue

**I'm finally posting this fic! I wrote it for the LJ Lucius Big Bang last year and had a lot of fun with it. It is basically a Lucius smut fest, although the romance creeps in rather powerfully as it progresses. I would describe it as a Lumione, but not without some - diversion - for our beloved Malfoy first. As the title suggests, Lucius certainly gets to have his cake and eat it! It has a prologue and epilogue and five chapters and I will be posting a chapter a day.**

**On a rather self-indulgent note ... the LJ Smutastic Awards are open for nominations again. I had a lot of fun when Discovering Beauty did so well last year - a nomination is always a lovely moment for any writer. If you feel like nominating any erotic fanfiction you've read which hasn't previously won, head over to the Smutastics and do so. The link is in the news section on my profile.**

**Also on my profile is a new poll which simply asks: are you male or female. Please take a moment to pop over and vote - I am very curious to know! It's all completely anonymous and only takes a couple of clicks of the mouse.**

**So ... onwards in the company of three young witches ... Enjoy! x**

* * *

The three young women met in The Rowan Tree every Wednesday for lunch.

They were a distinctive trio: young, bright, beautiful, always sitting at the same table in the corner, animated, engaged, their easy friendship etched into the smiles beaming from their open faces.

It was hardly surprising they drew frequent glances and comments from fellow diners.

Hermione and Ginny had been close since their first years at Hogwarts, but it was only since they had met Pansy again through their work at the Ministry that she had grown into the third of the trio. Indeed, if you had told Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley at school that they would become friends with Pansy Parkinson, they would have hexed you on the spot.

Age had not dulled Pansy's fiery spirit and confidence, but it had tamed her bitchiness. Her sense of humour appealed to the others, and as time had passed and Ministry work had forced the three of them on frequent courses and conferences together, they had found a common bond of giggles, gossip and garrulousness.

But their usual sense of fun and laughter had seemingly deserted them this Wednesday. As their meal drew to a close they sat, arms crossed, distinctly underwhelmed by life.

"Look at us. What the hell's the matter?" bemoaned Pansy.

"It was that bloody meeting. It went on forever. I almost hexed myself a stomach bug rather than sit and listen to Crouch droning on anymore," continued Ginny.

Hermione piped up, "It was important though. That new law could be contentious. If we don't understand it properly, we won't ..."

"Yeah, yeah, blah, blah, blah, Mione ... Do you always have to be so damn righteous?" Pansy grimaced at her friend's sense of correctness.

"Sorry. You know it's the truth though."

Ginny frowned at her two friends. "That's not the only reason we're all so bloody fed up."

"What's your theory then?"

"Come on, you two. It's obvious! None of us have had a shag for weeks!"

"Speak for yourself, Gin!"

"Don't pull that one, Pansy. You haven't either. You tell us every gory detail of all your encounters. We'd know if there had been even a sniff of anything."

Pansy rolled her eyes in defeat. "Well ... yeah, you're right. But there's just been no one remotely ... do-able ... I mean ... a girl's gotta have some pride."

Hermione laughed. "You two are incorrigible. There are more important things in life than sex."

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

"Like ... friends, responsibility, the pursuit of happiness ..."

"Having sex makes me happy!"

"And me!"

"Yeah, but ... you said it had only been a few weeks. That's nothing! I haven't had sex for ..." Hermione's voice trailed off.

"Go on."

"It doesn't matter."

"Oh yes, it does, Mione. You have to tell us now."

"No."

"Yes."

She sighed and dropped her eyes, muttering in shame, "Eight months."

"Eight months!" Even Ginny was incredulous.

"It could be worse."

"Not much!" countered Pansy.

"Oh, come on. It's only sex!"

"Only sex! God, if that's what you think then my brother must have been shit in bed!"

"Lay off, Gin," chipped in Pansy, "you and Harry didn't exactly last long, did you?"

"You can't talk! You who used to play tonsil tennis with Draco 'Constipated Death Eater Ferret of Doom' Malfoy!"

"Constipated! Why constipated!"

"I dunno – just felt like it!"

Ginny glanced surreptitiously at Pansy. "Did you ... y'know ... at school?"

"No! Come on! I was really young when I was with Draco. Even I wasn't that bad!"

"Yeah, but ... "

Pansy smirked. "Let's just say, we did everything but. However ..."

"What?"

"After we finished Hogwarts, we met up again that summer, the summer after the war and ... carried on where we'd left off for a while."

"Really? I never knew that."

"Yeah, but ... we'd grown apart. He had so much ... baggage. I just wanted to have some fun. Still, he was my first."

"Harry was mine."

"And Ron mine," sighed Hermione.

"It seems so long ago now, doesn't it?" Ginny's brows furrowed with the memory.

"Yeah ... just like the last time I had a shag!" moaned Pansy.

"What are we doing wrong, girls? I mean, we're not exactly mingers are we? I thought we were supposed to be desirable." Ginny was confused.

"We are."

"So what the hell's the matter with us?"

"I think we scare men off. I think we intimidate them," Hermione suggested.

"Couldn't they just not be intimidated for one bloody night?"

"We need a man who knows his own mind. Who is aware of what we went through. Knows us a little, but not enough to be put off by our baggage, because, we all have it girls, you've gotta admit!"

They could hardly dispute Pansy's words.

"Maybe it should be someone older. Someone with some authority, or wealth at least, confident in himself. And intelligent, not going to be put off by a bright witch."

"And with a great arse."

"Well, yeah ... that too."

"Nice eyes."

"Tall, broad."

"Good legs."

"Doesn't have to be morally perfect. Having a past can be interesting."

"Agreed."

"With a bit of mystery about him, a bit of intrigue."

"Anything else?"

They pursed their lips in thought.

"Hung like a donkey."

Further thought.

"Yup."

The door of the restaurant opened. Three pairs of eyes instinctively swivelled to it.

"Bingo."

Lucius Malfoy had just walked in.

* * *

**Oh yes indeed!**

**More tomorrow - promise. Mwa ha ha! x**


	2. Miss Parkinson

**Now how will Mr Malfoy react to the sight of three bright, attractive young witches? Let's just say, the title is rather a big hint.**

**I was helped so much in this fic by the wondrous apk, who feeds and nurtures my love of Lucius almost as much as the man himself. x**

**Lucius goes on a bit of a journey in this story. He starts out as a complete cad, but, as you will see as I continue to post ... even the most hardened of hearts can change. It depends on the woman, I suppose.**

**Enjoy. x**

**

* * *

**

Lucius Malfoy was shown to a table in the corner of the restaurant.

Just before he settled himself into his seat, a sound of low giggling and heady female conversation reached his ears. He glanced around at the source. There, sitting attuned to his every move, all legs, lips and lustre, were three witches: three witches he recognised very well.

His eyes quickly took in the intriguing and distinctly attractive sight of Pansy Parkinson (desperate, erstwhile girlfriend of his son), Ginny Weasley (blood traitor ex-slag of Potter's) and Hermione Granger (Mudblood extraordinaire). He smiled. They were clearly talking about him, their sparking glances thrown his way with frequent and teasing charm.

He scanned them. The Parkinson girl was the one most obvious in her desire to catch his attention, followed by Weasley, who was clearly trying but failing to hide her interest. She kept trying to shush the other girl unsuccessfully and rather half-heartedly. Granger, admittedly, seemed unimpressed by their simpering shenanigans. Her arms were crossed and she stared resolutely at her plate, flicking the remnants of her food with her fork. Lucius smirked. She was by far the most beautiful and radiant of the three, all the more so for being delectably unaware of it.

There was no harm in saying hello. He stood and wandered across to their table, sensing the sudden hushed silence which descended upon them.

"Ladies."

Three pairs of eyes looked up as if amazed to find him there.

"Mr Malfoy! What a surprise!" It was predictably the Parkinson girl who spoke first, flashing her dark eyes and her ample cleavage at him.

"What a pleasure coming across three such ... talented witches together. It is reminiscent of a scene from Macbeth, is it not?"

Pansy laughed aloud; she didn't have a clue what he was referring to. Ginny smirked; she remembered her father talking about a play called Macbeth at some point. She wasn't entirely sure what he had said had been a compliment.

Hermione sat indignantly. "What a cheery little group to be likened to, Mr Malfoy!" she scowled with bitter sarcasm. "Still, you know what happened to Macbeth – watch out!"

He smirked. "Oh ... I always do, Miss Granger."

"What brings you to London today, Mr Malfoy?" It was the tones of the Weasley girl which reached his ears now. He bestowed her with his most genuine smile and noticed the flush of her cheeks.

"Business at Gringott's. It is raining in Wiltshire, so a little trip to town is most welcome. Bumping into the three of you has reinforced the perspicacity of my decision."

Hermione rolled her eyes. His pretentious fawning was boorish to her ears. "Gringott's shuts on Wednesday afternoons." It would be nice to burst his bubble.

"How lucky then that I was able to conclude my business before coming here." His eyes met the deep brown of the Mudblood's. She held them for a moment longer than she had intended before looking down quickly.

It wasn't only the redhead he had made blush. Lucius sniffed in softly in satisfaction.

"I see you have just finished your meal, ladies. A shame, as I would have invited you to join me. Perhaps another time."

"Definitely, Mr Malfoy," grinned Pansy, standing so as to brush against his robes. "I think we would all enjoy that very much, wouldn't we, girls?"

Ginny giggled. Hermione pretended she hadn't heard. "Come on, Pansy. Those people want our table."

"Goodbye, Miss Parkinson. I hope to see you again sometime soon."

"Oh, so do I, Mr Malfoy."

"Miss Weasley."

"Goodbye." Ginny gave him a small grin before gathering her things.

"Miss Granger."

"Come on. We'll just split it three ways, shall we? We all had about the same, didn't we? So that comes to eleven galleons each. Is that alright with everyone?"

Hermione had already ushered them over to the counter to pay, completely ignoring Malfoy's farewell. He stood for a moment, his lips pursed in amusement, before returning to his table to focus once again on his luncheon.

* * *

Once the women were outside Pansy and Ginny could not hide their glee at the encounter with Lucius Malfoy. "Oh my god! Talk of the devil!"

"Quite," muttered Hermione.

They ignored her. "Can you believe it, after all we were saying? Bloody hell, I'd forgotten how hot that man is. Perfection. Just what we want."

"If you like bigoted, murderous, torturing bastards."

Ginny frowned at her. "We're only looking, Hermione. And all that was a very long time ago."

"You are joking, aren't you, Ginny? Can I remind you that it was Lucius Malfoy who planted Tom Riddle's diary on you?"

Ginny rolled her eyes and mumbled 'only looking' again.

"You have to admit though, Mione – you wouldn't say no, would you?" suggested Pansy, linking her arm through her friend's.

"I most certainly would!"

"Oh, come on, you're as desperate for a good man as the rest of us!"

"Yes, exactly – a _good_ man."

"Oh, I'm sure he's good where it matters."

Ginny and Pansy threw their heads back in hysterics.

When Pansy had recovered, she bit her lip and looked at them. "But seriously – that man. Bloody hell. It would be fucking good to try."

"You have got to be kidding!"

She shrugged. "We'll see."

"You wouldn't!"

"You couldn't!"

"Bet I could."

"Have you no shame?"

"You know better than to ask me that! Of course not! You've got to admit – we all thought it - I've just got the guts to come out with it. I am going to try to nail Lucius Malfoy and I bet you I can and no-one else will even get a look in." Pansy finished her announcement with a self-satisfied grin.

Ginny laughed again. "Well, not that I'm going to bother, but ... you're not the only one with any chance of a shag, I'll have you know ..."

"You're not going to get in my way, are you?"

"No! I just ... you're a bit ..."Ginny did not complete her sentence.

"Well, if that's what you want, you have nothing to fear from me!" Hermione made her declaration loud and forcefully. "I wouldn't shag Lucius Malfoy if he was the last living being on earth with a prick! Right, I'm off. Thanks for your company, girls. You really need your heads examined sometimes. I'll see you at work tomorrow." She leaned in to kiss them on the cheeks. Despite their hormonal over-indulgence, they were still good friends. She managed a laugh. "Honestly! What are you like?"

Waving cheerily, she disappeared into the crowd.

"Bye, Mione!" They called after her, their giggles still ringing across the crooked buildings of Diagon Alley.

"You are unbelievable sometimes, Pansy, but I have to agree ... Malfoy Senior's bloody gorgeous."

"Course he is, and Mione thinks so too, even though she'd never admit it."

Ginny sighed. "I've got to go. I said I'd pop into the shop and help George - stocktaking. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye, Gin. I've got a bit of shopping to do. I'm going to stick round here for a bit. See you later!"

Pansy watched as her friend walked up the street and disappeared. She had no intention of doing any more shopping that afternoon.

Instead, she ambled back to The Rowan Tree, standing as casually as possible, staring into the windows of the shop fronts blankly, waiting. It may take a while. When she heard the bell of The Rowan Tree tinkle to announce an arrival or departure, she would turn her head surreptitiously to inspect who was there.

After half an hour, her patience was rewarded.

* * *

As Lucius Malfoy emerged from the restaurant, he paused briefly to adjust his robes about him. Immediately, he noticed the young woman standing, now alone, by the shop opposite. He paused, having intended to continue his progress up the street.

It was the Parkinson girl. _Predictable, but not disagreeable._ After all, he had nothing planned for the afternoon.

Almost immediately, she turned and set her face into one of pleasant surprise, starting to walk towards him. His mouth curled up and he moved out into the street to greet her.

"Miss Parkinson! No longer with your friends? How lovely of you to choose to come and ... chat." He let his eyes sweep the length of her body, down, then up once again, taking in the long legs and undulating curves clearly highlighted by her tight jeans and top.

"Hello, once again ... Draco's Daddy." Pansy smiled a half-smile and raised her eyes to his under hooded lids.

"Really, my dear, I have long ceased to be solely associated with my son in your mind, I am sure. Call me Lucius, please."

"Only if you call me Pansy."

"Naturally." Every word he drawled was accompanied by that smirk which caused her belly to flip. "Have your friends abandoned you?" He wished to know the answer, but forced his voice to adopt an air of focused attention on the girl before him.

"They've gone –things to do."

_Shame._ Still, he smiled, keeping his eyes fixed on hers.

"It's nice to be on my own sometimes."

"Is it now?" he purred.

"I haven't seen you for a long time, Mr Mal ... Lucius. I thought it would be nice to ... catch up."

"I quite agree. May I suggest ... _catching up_ ... over a drink?"

"What a wonderful idea."

"Hm."

He motioned her down the street and off into the dark, secret corners of Knockturn Alley.

"In here?" inquired Lucius, ushering her into a small and rather insalubrious pub. Still, Pansy was hardly complaining: the darker the better.

The barman eyed them coldly as they entered, but clearly recognised Lucius. He leaned over the bar, cocking his ear to take the order.

"Two firewhiskys."

Pansy glanced at the wizard; she rarely drank firewhisky. With any other man she would have given him an earful for his presumption. But when Lucius turned and smiled at her all she could do was smile back.

They sat in the dimmest corner they could, hidden in shadows and muffled silence.

Pansy took a sip of her drink, the fiery burn fortifying her determination.

"And what are you up to these days ... Pansy?"

"I work at the Ministry – Departmental Relations."

"How fascinating."

"Sometimes."

"And ... a boyfriend?"

"Not at the moment. I enjoy being single."

"I should rather think you do." He eyed her over his glass.

"And how are you, Lucius?"

"Oh ... keeping busy. I sometimes wish that Draco and you were still together. But then, a woman of your ... abundant charms ... was wasted on him. He can be a whining little shit at times."

Pansy laughed on hearing the insult from Draco's father's mouth. His lips curled up.

"There is only one thing I regret about not staying with your son, Lucius ..." She looked hard into his eyes. "And that is not being able to spend more time with you."

"In that case, we should try to make the most of our time together now."

"That sounds like a very good idea."

Her hand was on his knee, the forefinger drawing a lazy sensual circle around it.

"You certainly know what you want, don't you, witch?"

"I'm used to getting my own way."

"I'm sure you are."

"Do they have rooms in this pub?"

He smirked, downed the remains of his firewhisky and stood. "Leave it to me."

Lucius returned a short time later. Pansy turned her brown eyes to him but said nothing.

"Shall we?" The proud eyebrow was cocked.

The girl stood and walked past him, knowing her heady scent would reach him with enticing force. She casually sauntered out of the inn, soon finding the stairs leading to the rooms. They were at the back of the inn, far from the hawk-like eyes always open in Knockturn Alley.

Pansy leaned against the wall beside the door of the room, staring intently at her ex-boyfriend's father. Lucius reached into his pocket to retrieve the piece of paper on which he had written the charm which would unlock the door. He turned his head as he did, unable to prevent the smirk belying his amusement at her desperate, unrefined seduction. Her efforts were unnecessary. She was attractive enough, if a little too curvy in places, but she would provide some amusement on what had been an otherwise dull day. And the knowledge that she was so friendly with Weasley and Granger was an added incentive.

The door at last opened and Lucius pushed it wide for her to enter. He locked it firmly behind them then walked to stand in the centre of the room. Pansy had crossed to the window, closing the shutters before lighting numerous candles with her wand. The room glowed with the soft warmth of the flames which sent shadows dancing along the walls. Pansy placed her wand down on a table and set her eyes upon the wizard again before beginning a slow undulating walk towards him.

Lucius watched the voluptuous curves of the woman sashaying towards him. There was little subtlety about her, and he knew from his son's comments that her intellect left a lot to be desired, but she was here now, and her body was arousing to say the least. He would not hesitate in taking her. His son had taken her virginity. It would be intriguing to have her; as far as he was aware she was the first woman he and his son had both bedded. The prospect fired his desire yet more.

She was before him now, her slender hands curling up around the hairs at the nape of his neck. He looked into the wide dark eyes; at that moment, her vacant beauty was enough. His balls throbbed.

"When I was with your son, Lucius, I used to look forward to your visits." Her lascivious croon purred in his ear, drawing a secret smirk onto his face, but he indulged her egotistical fantasy. "In fact, I don't think I would have been as interested in Draco if it wasn't for you ... I used to sit when we all had tea together, staring at you, trying to attract your attention, dreaming about what it would be like ... to fuck you."

Lucius' smirk could no longer be masked. _Hardly subtle. But probably energetic._ That would do.

He didn't think he could even be bothered to kiss her; his usual slow art of seduction had not been needed. His hands reached up to the buttons on her shirt and he undid them, not looking away from her eyes. The girl bit her lip deliberately, her eyes raised to his under her lids. _What a stupid little coquette she was._ He had to stifle a laugh.

Her shirt fluttered to the ground, revealing a scarlet satin bra beneath. He could not deny its appeal and felt his cock jerk within its constraints. His hands swiftly came round to undo the clasp and her full dark breasts were revealed to him, the nipples large and tawny, already pert in the cool air.

"Do you like them?"

_Vacuous slag._ He smirked once again but not with the appreciation she thought he was employing.

He would not answer such a facetious query, but instead gave her his affirmation by lowering his mouth to her heaving bosom and taking one dark nipple deep into his mouth. She inhaled in sharpest pleasure, genuine at last.

The nipple rose up large and hard on his tongue and he enjoyed the feel of it as it danced in his mouth. Her breasts were bigger than he liked, but he was always willing to diversify, and plied the ample flesh with vigour, aware that he was probably hurting her a little. She merely moaned. He continued.

His hand found the other nipple and began rolling and teasing it, drawing it up to as hard a point as the one still tingling under his tongue.

Pansy arched up, pushing him harder yet upon her.

"Lucius, fuck, Lucius, that is so good ... you are so fucking good."

He didn't need her to tell him, but her compliment caused yet another ache in his groin. He would have to address it soon.

His hand was down now, undoing the zip on her jeans, sliding a long finger into her. He encountered a smidgen of the sheerest silk. Reaching inside, he found her, smooth and nearly free of hair. He smirked again. A woman who went to such lengths to make herself sexually acceptable would always have to work harder for a partner of any meaning. Still, he was not complaining. It took all kinds.

He found her wet and hot, and touched around her clit instantly. She jerked against his hand, her eyes flying open with genuine and sudden pleasure. _Oh yes._ He would make this puffed up canary sing the sweetest, purest song she had ever crooned.

"Oh, fuck, I want more, please, please, Lucius, let me see you." She was desperate now, reaching down to undo him.

The painful straining of his cock needed release, and he helped her with his free hand, kicking off his shoes and stepping out of his trousers. He wore no underwear.

He swayed out, the rounded head purple and dripping with need, parting his shirt as it hung down.

"Oh my god, it's so fucking big."

_True, but did she have to put it quite so obviously? _He flinched a little at her vulgarity.

"I want it, I want it, I want it." She knelt before him and cupped his throbbing balls in her warm hands, her tongue slicking over her lips in preparation to plunge onto him.

Propriety was forgotten. _Hell – she could be as vulgar as she wished._

Her mouth closed about him, warm and wet and tight. Lucius inhaled and stared down at the sight of his son's ex-girlfriend sucking his cock for all it was worth. He could not remember a time he had enjoyed fellatio so much.

The girl was clearly relishing her task and went about it with straightforward but unfettered skill. She lacked the finesse he would prefer, but her ardour was indisputable. He smiled to himself at the constant moanings and supple sounds of satisfaction caught in her throat as her mouth feasted on him.

"God, you taste so good. When I was with Draco, I used to think about it; I used to glance between your legs and try to imagine what you looked like. Did you notice?"

He hadn't. Her break from his cock to talk was frustrating him and he guided her back, pushing her to sink a little deeper this time, curious as to how much she could take. He was pleasantly surprised as much of his considerable length disappeared with ease into her puffed red lips.

"What a fine little cock-sucker you are." The words poured out like honey, but their sudden explicit nature caused a momentary look of shock in her eyes and she glanced up at him with something akin to intimidation. The corners of his mouth twitched. Her sexual ego could do with a little chastening.

He was close. Her tongue danced sloppily but remarkably effectively over the head while her cheeks sucked on the delicate flesh joining it to the shaft. She gripped him hard further down, plying and pumping him with one moist hand while the other stroked his balls with surprising efficiency. Why should he hold on?

"I'm going to come in your mouth, witch." He was a gentleman, after all; he would still forewarn her, but she had better bloody hurry up and tell him if she objected.

"Fuck! Fuck, yes. I want to taste your cum. I want you to fucking come on my tongue."

He was beyond caring about her crude lack of refinement. His balls swelled and erupted and long hot shoots of white seed burst into her gaping mouth. He grunted with satisfaction as she caught them with practised skill.

Lucius stood panting down at her. He took out a handkerchief from his shirt pocket and handed it to her. "Here, you may use this." With that, he slumped back towards the bed, removing the rest of his clothes in the process. He was aware that he had not pleasured her yet and felt a pang of impropriety. It was not like him to leave a woman unsatisfied, but her need to take him in her mouth had been undeniable, something he had to be grateful for.

He glanced over at her, still kneeling, cleaning up her face by sucking the remaining streaks off her fingers and only then using his handkerchief for the remnants.

_Such a base slut._ But she deserved a reward.

"Come here."

She grinned and crawled towards him, climbing up onto the bed.

Grabbing onto her jeans, he pulled them down. He had been right about her underwear; she wore only a tiny red thong. He removed it with the agile dexterity of a master.

"Let me see you."

The girl opened her legs wide immediately.

The smell of her arousal reached him, igniting his lust yet again. But he must remember the order of things. He would give her pleasure first.

She arched, bucking high into the air, a moan of need passing over her.

"Now now. Settle down," he teased.

She grabbed his head, her fingers twisting in his hair. He hissed but allowed her to continue. She pulled him towards her. Lust oozed from her already, coating her dark folds in a damp enticing glow. Luckily for her, he had always relished the taste and feel of woman upon his tongue. Now was no different.

With a final look of anticipation, he dropped his head and drank her in.

Pansy cried out. "Oh god, oh god, yes!"

Lucius pushed his tongue deep into her, enjoying the strong taste of her lust for him. He pulled out and licked up and around her clit, hard and needy, perched above the entrance to her pussy. She almost screamed. He raised his eyebrows. Too much noise could be rather off-putting. Still, it was good to be appreciated.

He continued to lick and suck and nuzzle. Pansy felt two fingers pushed up into her, curled around to find that perfect place. "That's it, that's it ... suck my clit, suck me hard, rub me there, yes, fuck, Lucius, you are so good, you are so fucking perfect."

If she was going to speak like that, he could ignore the sluttish language and melodramatic vocalisations.

He sucked hard on her ripe clit and stroked languidly within. She came with a wrenching cry, her body locked in pleasure.

Afterwards, the girl panted and sighed like a deer in labour. He turned away from her, waiting for her to quieten, and lay on the bed, his cock unimpressed with her constant excessive noise.

"Oh god, that was so good, so fucking good. I've never come so hard from a guy going down on me before. Shit, Lucius; you're a hell of a lot better than your son, I can tell you."

His cock twitched a little.

When she had finally recovered, she rolled over and lay beside him, quiet at last, but allowing her hand to explore his balls and stroke along his still flaccid member. "You have such a beautiful cock." It began to jerk back into life soon enough. Her hands were working highly effectively. "I want it inside me."

By the time her hand had moved up and down him a fourth time, he was rock hard once again.

But before he could pin her down, the girl had swung her leg over his and positioned herself just above his searching tip. She noted the surprise in his eyes and threw her head back and laughed. "I like being on top. That way I get to have you as deep as I want."

_Bitch. _

But his balls screamed for release yet again. He held her hips hard. "Do it then, witch."

With a furrow of his brow, he pulled her down upon him, his cock finding immediate relief in the wet tightness of her hungry pussy. He groaned aloud, for once masking the sound of the girl's moan.

Pansy began to raise and lower herself, thankfully slowly at first. But still each plunge was accompanied by a whining mewl of delight. It was becoming tiresome, but was luckily overridden by the pleasure gripping his body. She may be noisy, but she could fuck.

She started to pick up her pace, leaning back and resting her hands behind her. Her ample breasts bounced before his eyes and, as hypnotic as they were, he was suddenly reminded of a confused cow he had seen in a field once, trying to hump a tree. He turned his head and closed his eyes, focusing instead on the near release of his balls.

"Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck ... gonna come, gonna come, god your cock is so fucking big, never had one like it, never, Lucius ... your fucking enormous cock is gonna make me come ... nowwww!" She came screaming once again, but her pussy and her praise were enough for him and he exploded, gripping her hips painfully and coming with a grunting sigh of his own.

Again there were desperate little panting aftershocks. Lucius kept his eyes shut and concentrated on the heavy post-orgasmic satisfaction of his body.

After only a little while he raised himself from the bed and picked up his shirt, swiftly putting it back on.

"Are you going?"

The girl sounded upset. He sniffed. Tact was probably the best policy.

"I have a meeting."

"Oh."

Now that she was silent, he felt he could engage with her a little more directly. He turned to her, fixing her with what he knew to be his warmest smile. "Thank you, my dear, for a most diverting afternoon. It will linger in me for a while to come, but I think it is best we keep this as a one-off, don't you?"

Pansy's face fell. "Right, I ... yes, I suppose."

"Come, my dear. We are all allowed a little fun once in a while, but a relationship between me and my son's ex-girlfriend ..." His voice trailed off into a wry chuckle as he continued to dress.

Pansy managed to smile. He was right. She hadn't expected much more than a shag. And it had been a bloody good shag.

"Thank you, Lucius. You're incredible. I haven't had such a good time for as long as I can remember."

"Goodbye, my dear. The room has been dealt with. You are free to stay until the morning if you wish." He moved to the door and turned momentarily back to her. "Thank you."

With a final smile, he left.

Pansy fell back onto the bed, a smile caressing her face as she remembered the pleasure she had just been given. She giggled to herself. It may have only been a one-off, but she'd still won the bet.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy walked purposefully down the hotel corridor. His time with the Parkinson girl had been well-spent, but by the time he reached the lift, his mind was already on other matters – and other women.

* * *

**Oh it most certainly is. More tomorrow. Onwards, Mr Malfoy. What a busy boy you are!**

**Love hearing from you. And don't forget to vote in my 'Are you male or female' poll - not a difficult one! It's all anonymous and can be found at the top of my profile. And head over to LJ to nominate all your fave HP erotica in the Smutastic Awards! x**


	3. Miss Weasley

**Like I said, Lucius' reaction to each of these very different girls will be interesting. Thank you all for your reviews for this story. Glad you are enjoying it. It is one of my more steamy fics (and that says a lot coming from me!)**

**Moving swiftly on ... (as Mr Malfoy said)**

* * *

It was with good fortune rather than deliberation that Lucius Malfoy came across Ginny Weasley a few days after his encounter with her friend.

He had been in the Ministry library researching a family history matter, and after finding himself in need of a distraction, had looked up from the weighty volume before him to see the slim figure of the flame-haired girl sitting across the large room from him, her eyes intent on a parchment.

They were separated by many desks and people, studious and silent in the vast intimidating space, but he had a clear view of her nonetheless. She had not noticed him. Her brows were creased slightly in concentration, her mouth occasionally moving as she read the document, and one hand supported her head, the fiery strands of hair tangling unnoticed through her fingers.

Lucius simply watched her.

She lacked the overt sexuality of the Parkinson girl, but with her flushed cheeks and little white teeth biting tantalisingly on a pencil dangling from her full lips, he thought her one of the most erotic sights he had ever beheld. The knowledge of who she was: a Weasley, the former partner of Potter himself, the girl he had indirectly possessed and nearly killed ...

He shifted in his seat, the familiar ache in his balls decidedly pronounced.

After seeing the three witches in The Rowan Tree the other day, Lucius Malfoy knew he wanted them, knew he would have them. The first was easy, this one may be rather more of a challenge, the next ... _One at a time_ ... But there was no denying that he would take up the immediate challenge with complete dedication.

He continued to stare at her. He was in no hurry. She was a pretty little thing, but tempered with a steely determination which held her green eyes with subtle intelligence, so lacking in the other one who'd offered herself to him so willingly.

Lucius wondered how long it would take for this one to succumb. She had certainly held his gaze confidently in the restaurant, had smiled firmly when he had met her eye. Perhaps it wasn't going to be too hard, but still, after all that had happened between their two families, a little resistance was to be expected. He smirked. That was generally beneficial to the ultimate outcome.

After some time, the Weasley girl took a deep sigh and raised her head. Immediately, she saw him.

Lucius detected the flicker of awareness that went beyond the recognition of a familiar face. For a mere moment, he saw in her eyes that glimpse of a person's thoughts laid bare before them, before the mask of decorative deceit was able to be pulled down. For that moment, her eyes were wide and open, reflecting the lurch he knew she felt in her slender belly. She blinked twice rapidly and smiled: a small empty smile to acknowledge his presence but deny him any further satisfaction.

Then her head lowered again and she returned to the parchment.

Lucius waited. He kept his book in front of him but read no more. Holding it up, he was able to maintain a careful view of the Weasley witch from behind it.

It was nearly five minutes before her eyes came up again, slowly this time; she was clearly struggling with herself. She looked straight at him. He gave her a slight smile and held her gaze, deriving immense satisfaction from the immediate flush of colour which rose in her pale smooth cheeks. She dropped her eyes rapidly once again.

And so it continued. For nearly an hour this dance of looks and glances went on. It was not long before she was granting him her gaze deliberately and directly, locking her eyes into his for protracted, delicious seconds at a time, her growing confidence and boldness thrilling him. Never could he remember maintaining an erection for so long with no chance of even touching himself.

And then she got up. She walked, her slim body held straight and tall, but with a sensual awareness which made his cock strain agonisingly against its confines.

Ginny made her way over to the dense shelving which formed half of the library, away from the reading room.

Lucius followed immediately, pacing behind her at a discreet distance. She turned several corners until she finally stopped in a dark, secluded aisle, high shelves rising on either side: a dead end, far from the inquisitive eyes of Ministry officials.

Ginny had paused, twisting her head a little as if aware of who was behind her, to reach up and retrieve a book. She heard the steady footsteps approaching and hitched her breath.

"Working hard, Miss Weasley?"

Ginny turned, exaggerating her expression into one of surprise at who she found. "Oh, hello."

Malfoy continued walking towards her. "Hullo, Miss Weasley. How delightful to see you again so soon. I trust you had a pleasant lunch the other day?"

"Yes, thank you."

"You and your two charming friends were certainly having a good chat. My mind was a whirl with what three intelligent, radiant young ladies should be conversing about with such ... fervour."

Ginny blushed scarlet. "Oh ... it was ... nothing ..."

By now, he was standing very close. Ginny could hardly breathe. He had left his robes on the chair in the reading room and his presence rose before her strong and vibrant and tall, his toned frame clear and tantalising under his immaculate black jacket. She longed to reach out to touch ... it had been so long ... she wanted him, of that she was in no doubt. But she recoiled instinctively. This was, after all, one of her oldest and most bitter enemies, was it not? The man who had been responsible for her becoming possessed, nearly dying. As if on cue, Malfoy spoke.

"I know words are meaningless at this stage, Miss Weasley, but I feel I should apologise."

Ginny darted her eyes up. "Apologise?"

Lucius raised his eyebrows as if surprised at her confusion. "Of course, Miss Weasley. It was my foolish, misled and selfish actions all those years ago which caused those terrible events with the Chamber of Secrets ..." He shook his head slightly and looked away, as if deep in thought. "A terrible time, and one for which I must hold myself responsible. Still, we all make mistakes, do we not? And we are all able to forgive, are we not?"

Ginny's brows wrinkled in reproach. If he was offering contrition, she could offer some resistance.

"I almost died, Mr Malfoy."

"I know," Malfoy purred with a frown of exaggerated concern. "But I had merely intended to get the book inside the school. I hoped the subsequent disruption would reveal the inadequacies of the Headmaster and bring about a change in leadership. Hogwarts was, and is, a place I care very deeply about. I was simply aiming to restore it to its former glory. Had I known how exactly the diary would act upon such a young, innocent creature as yourself ..."

She had buried that incident so deeply she could hardly bare to think about it. And now, here before her was the instigator. Was his apology sincere? In the midst of her lust-warped mind, it sounded so.

"And so, Miss Weasley ... do you forgive me?"

He was staring down at her, a slight smirk on his face, his eyebrow raised expectantly. She could smell his cologne mixing with the fresh scent of his immaculately laundered clothes. She steadied herself on the bookcase.

"Well ...I ... it was so long ago ..."

"It was indeed ..."

He was even closer, his head inclining slowly towards hers, she could not pretend otherwise.

"I suppose ... perhaps ..."

"Yes ...?"

His lips were nearly at hers. She swallowed hard. She thought she may pass out if he didn't kiss her. Her insides churned in longing and her legs rubbed together instinctively to relieve the burn threatening to overwhelm her.

So close.

And then Ginny's hands came up, gripped his head hard and pulled him into her.

The sudden move took even Lucius Malfoy by surprise. Not that his cock was complaining. Immediately he opened his mouth to her and pushed her back hard against the bookcase so that he could find some relief by grinding his engorged erection into her. The girl groaned and gave him her tongue, seeking out his own, her fingers tangling in his hair to hold him as close as possible.

Ginny gave herself to him and took in the process. His heady masculine taste danced upon her tongue and she plundered all he was, devouring this man who had meant nothing but hatred to her before.

One of Lucius' hands dropped to grip her backside, finding it slight and firm, quite the opposite to the voluptuous Parkinson. _A little variety never did anyone any harm. _He ran it down under her thigh and pulled her leg up around him, so as to push ever harder into her. She responded with a push against him of her own and broke away from his mouth breathlessly. "Yes ... I forgive you."

By now he could merely grunt, his lust forcing his hand to seek out the core of her own desire. She wore a dress, and reaching underneath it he quickly disposed of her underwear. It was not the smooth silk of the Parkinson girl's; he thought he could feel lace but did not look at it long enough to find out. His fingers returned to the newly exposed flesh and touched, as lightly as he could at first. Her eyes darted upwards, her mouth gasping in a sudden breath.

"Want you here, now ... must have you," came his rasping need.

With one hand still exploring the new wet heat he had discovered, his other tried to release himself. He was becoming desperate, the erection he had maintained since first locking eyes with the girl in the reading room now frantic for release. She was breathing deeply, hardly able to focus, but her own hands came down and with urgent need undid his fastenings. He swayed out quickly, large and hard. Her eyes widened with an expression which to him seemed to be shock, and he allowed himself a faint smile of satisfaction. Still, the girl was not deterred and shifted herself back, running her leg higher up his hip to grant him better access.

He gripped her backside, lifted slightly, and with a final look into her eyes, pushed up into her. At first, she was so tight, and he so large, that he could not get in very far.

Ginny moaned as she felt the head of his cock stretching the opening of her begging pussy.

"More ... please, more ..."

He could only oblige.

Digging his fingers so hard into her tight arse that she would later bruise, he thrust harder, rising almost fully into her and causing a simultaneous groan that they struggled to muffle in the heady silence of the library.

"Gods, witch, but you are magnificent." He pushed fully into her, causing Ginny to fling her head back in thrilled completion.

He managed to rest her arse on a shelf and gripped both her legs around him. Lucius pulled out a little, her flesh gripping him as tightly as he withdrew as when he had pushed in. He looked into her eyes; they were glazed and staring. Her mouth hung open in wonder and she gasped as he then thrust completely in again.

"I like that, I like that, I like that ... fuck me like that again. Hard like that ... please ..."

This girl was already more rewarding than her friend, and they weren't even out of the library yet. He could not hold on much longer, and her invitation to plough into her was one he could only accept. Bracing himself against her on the shelf he started moving hard and deep, relishing the hot grip of her slim body as she encased him.

Ginny allowed him to plunge into her as he wished. He was stroking along her perfectly, cajoling her body into pleasure with each thrust.

She held his hair, smoothing down the blond strands, remembering all their former associations. And then she came, her lips opening to cry out. Before she could, a hand clamped down on her mouth to silence her. The pleasure which ripped through Ginny was more pronounced as it had no vocal outlet. Her mind and body were forced to absorb it all internally. It was the most intense orgasm she had ever had.

Lucius felt her spasming around him. He could come at last; he had held on too long as it was. As he felt her teeth biting into his palm and her orgasm clenching around his cock, he exploded, his pelvis grinding against her, but managing to remain silent save for the deepest exhalation of breath.

It took some time before they became aware of their surroundings again. Carefully and silently, they adjusted their clothing.

"Now, Miss Weasley, I think retreating to somewhere a little more private is in order, don't you?"

And with that, he withdrew his wand and Disapparated them both from the library.

Ginny glanced around, still clinging to Malfoy's shirt. They seemed to be in a side-street off a broader boulevard, quite clearly in the middle of Muggle London.

She turned her eyes up to him, her gaze bleary. "I left my bag in the library."

He cocked his eyebrow, a smirk capturing his teasing mouth. "And I my robes. All in good time. Now ... as fortune would have it, I know of a rather good hotel just along from here."

As Malfoy booked them into the hotel, Ginny stood close by, running her hands along his arm, drawing them down to his tight buttocks. The pretty receptionist eyed her coldly; the age difference between the attractive, intriguing and clearly wealthy gentleman and the hard-eyed red-headed girl was clear. Ginny smirked, tightening her grip on Lucius' arm.

Malfoy finished signing in with a tantalising smile at the receptionist. She smiled back at him, her eyes lingering. Ginny's smirk turned into a glare. As Malfoy turned to lead her to the lift, Ginny directed her gaze briefly at the receptionist. "Mine," she mouthed silently to the now sullen girl.

They were silent in the lift, standing on opposite sides. Ginny watched the numbers rising. It would have been so easy to have torn at his clothes there and then; it wasn't as if she didn't want to, but a little restraint merely added to the desire lurching drunkenly inside her.

The lift pinged and the doors opened. Lucius led the way, finding the room quickly and opening it with magic, ignoring the key-card in his hand.

He held the door for Ginny but said not a word. It was a beautiful room, lush and opulent, but without the gaudy bad taste Harry had so often misjudged in his efforts to impress her.

The door clicked shut behind her. She stood. Malfoy approached slowly, pacing, until he stopped a foot or so away, his eyes slipping down her body.

Ginny did not move; her desperation was threatening to bubble over but she fought against revealing it.

Her eyes moved to his lips, recalling their bruising kiss of earlier. She wanted it again. Before all else she wanted it. She spoke almost without knowing it.

"I want you to kiss me again."

Malfoy merely deigned to offer a brief smirk, no more.

"Why are you no longer with Potter?"

"That's none of your business."

"But you will tell me anyway."

She stared at him, her insides writhing in need, and spoke with a groan. "He was always preoccupied with other things. I don't know. We just ... grew apart."

"He did not satisfy you?"

"Not in every way."

"Sexually?"

Ginny opened her mouth to object to his insistent prying, but instead of a rebuke, she found herself answering honestly. "Not after a while, no."

"But to begin with?"

"I didn't know any better then. He was my first. He was sensitive enough, I suppose."

Malfoy chuckled. "_'Sensitive enough, I suppose?' _Hardly a ringing endorsement, Miss Weasley."

"What does it matter to you?"

His eyes turned cold and he stepped into her.

"Kiss me." She nearly ordered it.

"No."

But his hand was down, lifting up her dress again. Her underwear had been left on the floor of the library. Warm, long fingers were sliding up her inner thighs, delighting in the flesh growing hotter and hotter as they rose to their goal.

Lucius stroked along her thighs; the girl had long, thin legs. He preferred a little more meat on a woman, perhaps not as much as the Parkinson girl, but once again the joy of discovering a new female body caused his cock to force itself against his thick trousers in its attempt to find relief.

She groaned, her eyes flashing as at last he touched her. Lucius' pupils widened as he found her deliciously wet, not entirely from their exertions in the library. Her lust was coating his fingers in enticing, humid need.

He teased her pussy lips apart, sliding one finger only along her, not entering her and avoiding her clit. She inhaled sharply through her nose.

"More ..."

He stopped, eliciting a moan of frustration from her.

_She could learn some patience. Potter had clearly not been bothered to try. _

Eventually, he began his movements again, at last slipping two fingers deep up into her. She pressed against him, her eyes closing. His fingers rubbed against the perfect place inside, curled around, knowing exactly where to focus his attention, while the base of his hand pressed onto her clit.

With each rub of his hand, a little gasping breath would escape her; a delightful sound which stirred his balls yet more. He swallowed to deaden his own lust.

The girl's head fell back but she forced it up again to stare into his eyes. Lucius smirked, the bright green irises of the girl contrasted in passionate fury with the flaming red of her hair. She was well worth the wait in the library.

"Shit. I want to come, Lucius. Do it."

He felt her breath hitch and her muscles tense. He removed his hand. Ginny' eyes flared in frustrated anguish; she had been so close. A groan of fury rose from her.

"Were you this demanding with Potter, witch?"

"Fuck you! Don't stop!"

The tall wizard merely chuckled. "It seems growing up in an all-male household has brought out your assertive side, Miss Weasley."

She glared, steadying her breathing; her release had been so close, her body so poised that it was now burning in painful need for his touch.

Slowly, he at last brought his hand back again, lightly, delicately touching around her inflamed clit, questing up into her before withdrawing swiftly. Again he brought her to the point of orgasm then denied her. This time she roared. "You fucking bastard!"

"And the language of your brothers seems also to have rubbed off on you. Tut tut. You will wait."

"I am waiting! I can't take much more."

His hand moved into her once again, cajoling, teasing, bringing her to the brink. Ginny was sure this was the time when she would be tipped over the edge. Once again her body prepared itself, needle points of sensation ripping along from her agonised core to capture her flesh.

But once again it was gone. She clenched in desperate concentration to prevent her body releasing her pleasure without his touch.

This time she sobbed. "Please, _please, _Lucius ..."

He looked at her, her teeth biting in frustration upon her ruby bottom lip, so succulent and inviting against the pale skin surrounding it. Even he could not deny her anymore.

Holding her gaze, he brought his agile fingers back one final time and rubbed so deliciously that he saw the black pupils within the green eyes swell. Her mouth opened to draw in a sharp breath which caught immediately. Ginny froze. Her body had been so primed, poised so perfectly upon a pin sharp point, waiting for the release. It finally came in a great flash, rent through her fibres. Her legs shook uncontrollably and her hand came up in a reflex to grip his shoulder. Her entire body was rigid as the strongest climax she could remember tore its way through her. And then she slumped, unable to hold herself up any longer.

Lucius stared down at her and began to remove his own clothes, the smirk of self-satisfaction unable to be wiped from his face completely. When he was completely naked he held his hand down to the girl still immobile on the floor below him. Ginny looked at the proffered palm, then beyond to his naked body, his cock rising large and ready towards her. She gripped his fingers and allowed herself to be pulled up.

Lucius' hands worked fast to remove her clothes. Gradually, she recovered enough to help him and soon she too was naked. His eyes moved over her body, finding her as slender and taut as he had guessed. Her breasts were small, with soft pink nipples, and her waist blended into her hips almost without a rise. Perhaps Potter had preferred a more voluptuous woman. Lucius knew he generally did, but he would make an exception for the Weasley girl.

At last he moved into her, pressing his full length against her, pushing his leaking cock against her tight stomach. And then, bringing his hands up, he cupped her face and kissed her. Ginny sighed into his opening mouth as at last the lust which had warped her mind was banished and she allowed him to taste and savour her slowly and delicately.

And then she was moved, walked backwards until she was pressed down onto the bed. He took one leg, kissing along it and placing it on his shoulder, an action he repeated on the other. Then, taking her slender hips in his hands, he thrust into her. Again, Ginny grunted with shock at his size.

Lucius pulled back before pushing fully into her again, forcing her into the bed. Ginny's groans were now almost constant.

"You'd forgotten, hadn't you? Forgotten who you were?"

Her eyes widened, inviting him only to fuck her. She could not speak. Her pussy clenched harder onto him, not willing to let him go.

"You know now, don't you? Pureblood to pureblood. You see how it is. How it is meant to be."

Ginny fixed him with her eyes. "Just don't stop fucking me."

He grinned and plunged into her, over and over, hard and deep, his cock tearing its way into her tight pussy, dragging with it yet another irreversible rise towards pleasure.

"Come, come, come for me, witch. I want to feel your pureblood pussy coming apart upon me."

It took only a moment longer. Ginny released her orgasm loud and long and as Lucius felt, saw and heard her pleasure clasping him yet tighter, he exploded into her, the hot grip of her pussy ridding him of the memory of her blood treachery.

When Lucius pulled out of her, sated and panting, Ginny crawled up onto the bed and lay, her limbs damp and heavy.

He came up beside her but neither could speak for some time.

At length his words came, low and teasing. "You are quite a revelation, my dear."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He chuckled. "Did Potter benefit from your ardour?"

She tutted and sneered. "Why do you keep asking about him? It's as if you feel you have to better him."

"Oh, I have no doubt that I do that, Miss Weasley."

"You are the most arrogant bastard I have ever come across in my entire life and that's saying something seeing as I also had the misfortune of knowing your son!"

He did not dispute it and even allowed a slight laugh to sound.

Moving down her body, Lucius took a small pink nipple in his mouth, enjoying the feel of it harden and swell on his tongue. "You need to eat more," he drawled against her flesh.

"I beg your fucking pardon!"

"You're too thin. It would serve you better to put on some weight."

"Shut the fuck up, Malfoy." She spoke harshly but did not remove herself from his touch.

"Like I said, Miss Weasley, quite a revelation. What a sharp little tongue you have – no wonder Potter got scared."

"He didn't get scared!"

Lucius returned to her breast. Ginny said no more. She glanced down beyond his head. She could see his cock rising up yet again, large and purple with need. She could not deny it; it was the best specimen of manhood she had ever come across.

Lucius glanced up and saw her looking at it. He moved himself back to lie down and took her shoulder. She could feel pressure on it, compelling her towards his cock.

"Down."

She turned to him. "What?"

"Go on. In your mouth."

"You're kidding."

"No."

"You can't just tell me to do that!"

"Why not? You want to and you will."

"Yes, but ..."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Miss Weasley, are you going to suck my cock or am I going to have to take matters quite literally into my own hands?"

Ginny was speechless. The words issuing from one of the most refined mouths she had ever come across silenced her. Then she felt the pressure again, this time more insistent.

Glancing down at the beautiful object once again, all doubt was banished, and she inched her way down the bed, coming level to it. It stared at her, unblinking, a dewy tear caught on the tip. Her tongue instinctively and immediately came out to lick it away.

The man above her hissed with expectant pleasure. Her insides coiled with delight. She opened her mouth and sucked.

Immediately, Lucius pushed more fully into her. Ginny pulled back, a little overwhelmed at his size.

He pushed again. This time she relaxed and allowed her mouth to sink down, her tongue tasting the new essence leaking from him. It was good; she became more avid, twirling, pulling in her cheeks and taking him yet further. From the deep sighs emerging from above her, she knew she was doing the right thing.

As she sucked his vast hard member into her mouth, her mind flitted back, thinking of his ancestors, the noble lineage which had begat him, the seed of generations, spilled into the purest families, perhaps even mingling with ancestors of her own. For that moment, Ginny had never felt her magic so alive. Gripping his lower length hard in her fingers, she feasted on him ever more ardently, until she knew he was close. Only at the last minute, did his hand come down to steady her.

"It's now witch, now. Do you want it?"

She groaned around him but did not pull back. Lucius did not wait any longer. He came hard, spurting long hot shoots into her hungry mouth. She caught it all.

Lucius was panting heavily as the pleasure left his body. Ginny came up again, resting her head on the pillow beside him. He smirked across at her. "I think you enjoyed that as much as I did." She turned her back on him. He chuckled.

After some minutes, the bed lightened beside her. Lucius had got up. "I have to go. It has grown later than I thought. I must retrieve my robes from the library."

She stared at his firm body, the muscles flexing elegantly as he pulled on his shirt.

"Aren't you going to go down on me?"

He looked back, the haughty mask not quite hiding his surprise. He did not respond but paused in his movements.

"I went down on you. I expect the same from you ... or do your pureblood values not extend to being a gentleman?"

For an instant his eyes flashed cold. Ginny manoeuvred herself down the bed and parted her legs, her finger running up her folds, stroking a little, inviting him in.

Lucius' features twitched. _Presumptuous bitch._

Ginny's breath hitched as a jolt of pleasure caught her. _Enticing bitch._

With a fluid move he was between her legs. And with only a moment to process his movement, Ginny felt his tongue, hard and indignant, sweeping from her perineum to her clit, gathering in the lust dripping from her as it went. She arched her back high, her breath released forcefully.

Two fingers were pushed deep inside. She mewled, pressing herself onto him. And then another finger, but different. Ginny's eyes shot open. It was in her arse. She wriggled, unable to ignore the delicious fullness it wrought. Lucius' tongue darted around her clit, circling and coaxing it out once again. His fingers curled. Ginny sobbed with bliss, her body pressing itself against him.

"You like that, don't you, you little slut?" His words were cold, as would befit a Death Eater. She could only mewl a response. There was a sting at her arse, but she was so primed, so relaxed that it shifted swiftly to a feeling of complete sensory perfection. He had inserted another finger. Ginny cried out, grinding down upon it. "And you like that even more ... no wonder Potter couldn't keep up ... pathetic, limp, half-blood runt."

Ginny had given up protesting. His tongue had completed its dizzying progress around her clit and his lips now fastened tight and firm upon it, sucking and nuzzling and eating her for all he was worth. As his fingers flamed and stroked inside she came, a cry of pure ecstasy released from her.

No sooner had she come than the man pulled himself up and straddled her hips, grabbing his enormous erection hard in his fist and pumping furiously. He came almost immediately, spurting long hot bursts of cum onto her pale milky breasts. "There ... there ... Remember, witch ... remember who you are ... flesh to flesh, blood to blood ... do not forget!"

As the last drop of his pleasure fell onto her with a grunt, he rose, reaching for a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and tossing it at her before retreating to the shower.

Ginny lay perfectly still for some time before pushing up and wiping herself with his handkerchief. Their time had been desperate, frantic, but never had she had such phenomenal sex. She knew she would not see him again, could not, her conscience forced her not to want it. Would she regret this? Time would tell, but for now she did not. Lucius emerged from the bathroom and dressed quickly.

"I really must go. As pleasant as this little interlude has been, I don't think it should be repeated; I'm sure you'll agree." He looked at her, haughty arrogance returning to his face. Ginny nodded slightly. "The room is paid for. When I collect my robes I will ensure your bag is delivered safely here. Thank you for ... this afternoon."

Ginny sat on the bed, her hair dishevelled, her lips red and swollen. He looked down at her and then, hesitantly, almost unobtrusively, a slight but tender smile curled around his mouth. "Goodbye, Ginny."

"Goodbye, Lucius." She allowed the smile to be returned. He turned to go and opened the door. "Lucius!" He stopped and looked back. "I won't forget."

Another smile. The door shut silently behind him.

* * *

**Two down, one to go. Methinks the next one may require a little more effort on his part ...**

**Thoughts? **

**LL x**


	4. Miss Granger

**Moving on ... I should imagine the last woman may prove a bit more of a challenge ... and how will she in turn affect the proud Pureblood? Let's put it this way - I have given Hermione three chapters of her own. This story still has a fair way to go. Like I said at the beginning, despite what has happened before, I consider this fic to be a Lumione.**

**Thank you for the lovely reviews. Forgive me if I take a while to respond to them all. **

**And now ... Miss Granger.**

* * *

It had been two days since Lucius Malfoy had had Ginny Weasley in the Ministry library.

He had enjoyed it; that could not be denied, and had relished the opportunity to banish the memory of her less-than-pure encounters with Potter. She was satisfied; of course she was. He did not consider himself to be sexually arrogant, one must always at least endeavour to present a humble stance before a woman – such a demeanour was usually to one's advantage. But he knew from the sounds and sensations of women upon him that he left them more than satisfied.

And he was well-practised.

His frequent indiscretions during his marriage had been partially to blame for its collapse, although it became clear that he was not the only partner who had strayed from the marital bed. In Wizarding Court, Narcissa had revealed a string of lovers stretching back many years, some even before the war, the time at which his own infidelity had started. He supposed his adultery had something to do with a re-evaluation of self in the months after Voldemort's defeat.

He craved physical connection, needed to feel a woman rendered helpless through his attentions alone. It recaptured some of the power he had tasted so briefly under the Dark Lord, with far less sinister repercussions. That was the general idea, in any case.

So far, moral culpability had left him remarkably unscarred. He took as he needed, and women seemed only too happy to give and leave. He wished none of them to linger.

His encounters with the last two girls had been satisfying, although the first would not remain long in his memory; the Parkinson girl had intrigued him, largely due to her association with his son. The Weasley girl would be remembered for longer. She had been good, very good.

And now ... he knew full well who he had to seek out. She had been the reason for beginning this whole thing ever since their chance encounter in The Rowan Tree.

Granger.

Did it surprise him that he would so actively pursue a Mudblood? Perhaps a little. But he supposed her ignoble provenance was one of the reasons he was so excited by the prospect. She had certainly proved herself capable of great magic and was in possession of a ferocious intellect; that appealed. And she had resisted him. Women were usually so quick to succumb to his desire, even the Weasley girl had proved easier than anticipated. Granger's indignation at his presence in the restaurant had piqued his curiosity, but he had noticed the slight reddening of her cheeks when he had stared into her eyes, eyes which were now fixed in his mind.

What an enticingly beautiful creature she was. From the little he had glimpsed of her body it teased and tantalised him exactly as he would wish.

But how best to seduce her? How even to get close to her?

Luckily, fortune was about to deal Lucius Malfoy another good hand.

* * *

He was in Apsley's Apothecary, the Diagon Alley store selling to advanced potions practitioners, having dropped in to stock up on much needed supplies. Lucius found himself hidden away in a corner of the shop, sifting through various drawers in an attempt to find what he needed.

"Are you telling me it hasn't arrived yet?"

His ears pricked. A smooth but clearly insistent female voice was inquiring rather forthrightly of the shopkeeper.

"I specifically requested this item months ago and it is still delayed. I need this ingredient for some exceptionally important Ministry business which requires this potion tomorrow. I was assured by your manager that it would arrive a week ago at the very latest. When it had not, he assured me yet again that it would most definitely be today. Your incompetence is compromising my work."

Lucius peered out from behind a shelf, ensuring he remained hidden from view.

Hermione Granger stood before the counter, one hand leaning on it, the other pointing with sharp stipulation to a piece of parchment on the surface. Her cheeks exhibited that same damask glow he had seen when looking upon her in the restaurant, but it had now risen in indignant anger rather than embarrassment. Her hair, which she had clearly endeavoured to tie back earlier in the day, was by now tumbling randomly around her finely-shaped face. One hand moved to her hip, highlighting the perfect swell up to her slender waist. How he wanted to cup that dip, run his hand along to feel the smooth valley of flesh ...

For a moment he found himself simply staring, entranced, but then his groin throbbed its reminder. There was no point lurking in the shadows when a clear opportunity presented itself. He walked out from his hidden vantage point.

"I would like to see the manager, please. This ridiculous situation has persisted long enough."

"Miss Granger. You seem to be experiencing some difficulty. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Hermione turned suddenly, her eyes gaping wide in shock to find Lucius Malfoy approaching her, offering assistance.

Her mind froze and her mouth hung open futilely, half in confusion at having been interrupted from her rant at the shopkeeper, half to try to summon some indignation towards the tall blond man now standing extremely close to her.

She frowned, her head shaking a little in bewilderment and only managed one subdued word. "No."

Hermione turned immediately back to the rather miserable young man who had failed in all his attempts to placate her. "So what are you going to do about this? I asked for your manager."

"He isn't here."

"Get him."

"He's in Peru."

Hermione huffed.

"I can offer you foxglove essence as a substitute."

"_Foxglove essence! _You run a potions store and you are offering me foxglove in place of essence of red iris to use in the memory potion? Do you realise the consequences of that?"

Malfoy watched the exchange with intrigue. The Granger girl was reducing the shopkeeper to an impotent wreck. He smirked. "The lady is correct. If you replace red iris with a common plant essence such as foxglove, you would succeed not in manipulating the recipient's memory, but in eradicating it altogether. Not something I should imagine Miss Granger wishes to occur."

Hermione looked up at Malfoy again. Why was he still there? However, she fell silent. His account was entirely accurate. The memory potion was an advanced concoction, licensed only to highly skilled witches and wizards; she was silently impressed by his knowledge of it.

The squirming shopkeeper tried again. "Well ... can you get hold of red irises? You can distil their pollen and .."

"Get hold of red irises? You have got to be kidding! It is impossible to buy fresh red irises anywhere. That's why I requested the essence months ago! I would have to find somewhere they were growing and pick them myself!"

Lucius smirked. Fortune was indeed smiling on him today.

"Miss Granger, as luck would have it, while walking in the grounds of the Manor the other day, just beside a patch of woodland I saw a small patch of red irises."

Hermione could not prevent her eyes lighting up with wonder. "You have red irises growing on your land?"

"Only very rarely, but they were certainly there last week. If you wish, I could take you there and you may pick what you need for your potion."

Hermione was speechless. She could not accept ... could she? Yet she so desperately needed the ingredient. One should not look a gift horse in the mouth.

But this was Lucius Malfoy. There was no way she should even be considering his offer. She remembered his obsequious ingratiation in the restaurant. She would not fall for that like her weak-willed friends.

She turned her eyes up to his. He looked down and met them. Gone was the arrogant smirk, gone was the empty smarm. Behind the limpid grey she read, suddenly and openly, intelligence and integrity. Her brows furrowed, tearing her eyes away from his in confusion and dropping them instead to take in his face, as if for the first time. She noted the high cheekbones, the lines around the mouth, almost absent when his face was at rest as now, but clearly etched in from times of deep expression, laughter even. How unlike what she expected. His hair was as immaculate as ever, but one lock dangled down around the line of his chin, almost as if it would tickle him. Her hand jerked. She wanted to brush it away.

Despite her best intentions, Hermione Granger could only admit that he was profoundly attractive.

And she still needed the ingredient.

With the deepest sigh, she looked back at him. "That would be ... a great help to me. I can Apparate to near the Manor. You can just point me in the right direction; I'll find my way."

"Oh no, Miss Granger. The grounds of the estate are vast; it is easy to lose one's way, especially in the woods. I shall take you to the precise location personally."

She was breathing rather more heavily than she needed to. "Very well. Shall we still Apparate?"

"It is difficult to Apparate to an imprecise place with no tangible magical locations nearby. Luckily, I came by broomstick today."

"But ... I haven't got mine." Hermione quaked. She hated flying.

"That is of no consequence – you shall share mine."

"I ... oh, no, I really couldn't ... that won't be necessary ... I really don't think ..." Her mind was such a whirl that she gripped the counter for support.

"It seems the only alternative. Have no fear, Miss Granger, you shall be perfectly safe with me. This way." With a final smirk, he turned, leading the way out of the shop.

Hermione found her feet following him even though her mind had not fully sanctioned what she seemed about to do.

He led her round to a small courtyard behind Diagon Alley where brooms were parked, and reached for a large, mahogany broomstick with gold trim.

"Up!" The broom immediately leapt into his hands. Malfoy swung a long black-clad leg over it and bent over the shaft, looking back at Hermione.

"I ... I really don't think this is a good idea."

_Oh, I think it is possibly the best idea I have ever had._ "Nonsense. You shall have your ingredient in no time. Jump on. You can sit side on if you wish – always more comfortable for the lady, so I believe."

Hermione walked towards his hovering broom tentatively and tried to place her bottom on the broom so as to avoid any contact with him. He chuckled low.

"You'll have to move closer than that, Miss Granger. Come right up behind me and put your arms around my waist. Do not worry; unlike some of my fellow Death Eaters ... I don't bite." He smirked at her.

Hermione sighed.

_Think red irises. Think memory potion. Think happy boss._

She moved a little closer and tentatively drew her hands around his waist, holding only onto the material of his robes.

"Tighter, Miss Granger."

She drew her arms in a little closer around him. She could feel him laugh once again. He smelt potent, heady ... delicious.

Malfoy incanted a cloaking charm and then turned to look up.

"Off we go."

The broom rose abruptly into the air and swept over the roofs of Diagon Alley; Hermione nearly screamed and immediately drew her arms tightly around his waist, burying her head instinctively in the smooth, dark cashmere of his outer robes. She inhaled in terror. More of his exotic scent filled her senses, soothing her suddenly and inexplicably.

The air was rushing past her, buffeting her hair. She held onto him for dear life, her arms now desperately clasped around his torso. Despite her terror, her mind still processed the finely hewn chest and tight abdomen around which she clung.

"Are you alright, Miss Granger?" called Malfoy over his shoulder.

She nodded frantically against his back.

"Why don't you take a little peep? There is no way you are going anywhere with a grip like that. It is perfectly safe to look. There is a beautiful view of the city."

Hesitantly, furtively, Hermione allowed her head to poke out from behind his shoulder. She cast her eyes down briefly. Her stomach lurched and her grip on him tightened yet again. She thought she heard a slight cough from him and tried to loosen her hold a little. As they flew on, she at last started to relax a tiny bit; the steady, strong presence of the man she was holding made her feel secure, at ease ... safe.

She forgot for a moment she was thinking about Lucius Malfoy, that she was holding onto the robes and body of a Death Eater as the only means of her survival.

They flew on. The crowded roads and buildings of London thinned out and gave way to lush green fields, rivers and meadows. Hermione at last felt relaxed enough to look out upon the extraordinary view of the English countryside below her. Her grip on Malfoy was no longer so desperate; her palms were now open flat against him. She could feel the firmness of his chest ever more under her fingers, even through his dense materials. Her fingers flexed upon him. He smirked. The proximity of the Granger girl was exhilarating. He could feel the swell of her breasts pressed against his ribs. Flying with a screaming erection had its own disadvantages, but the pros seemed to be outweighing the cons.

"Nearly there, Miss Granger."

Malfoy flew with fluid skill, darting through low clouds, avoiding birds with casual swooping efficiency. By the time the journey was finishing, Hermione was not sure she wanted it to end.

"Down there. Do you see?"

Malfoy was pointing to a house, large and isolated, yet dominating the landscape around it. Four wings stretched around a large courtyard. Hermione recognised it even from the air; it was Malfoy Manor. The immaculate landscaped gardens stretched out before it, morphing into fields and woodland which Hermione assumed formed part of the estate. Malfoy leaned over and inclined his broom towards the ground. Hermione's stomach jolted again and she gripped hard upon him.

Malfoy flew down past fields, landing lightly and gently before a wood.

Hermione took a moment to recover her senses. He waited, watching her steadily. "There. Here at last. I told you that you would be perfectly safe. Did you enjoy that?"

She was not sure what to say. She had eventually, but should she admit it to him?

"Thank you for getting me here safely." She opted for grateful appreciation instead. He smirked.

"Come. The irises are in this wood."

Malfoy strode before her. She followed. The wood quickly became dense and dark; Hermione wondered for a moment if he was leading her into danger. She reminded herself of who he actually was. Had she been right to trust him?

But then the wood started to thin out again and sunlight was filtering in ever more dappled patterns onto the ground beneath her.

And then colour.

Hermione exhaled in wonder. There before her was the deepest and densest swathe of bluebells she had ever seen.

She could only stop and stare. Malfoy paused and looked around, pacing back to query her hesitation. "They're just over here - a little further."

"So beautiful."

The girl was not moving, simply staring at the ground. It dawned on him; she was gazing at the bluebells.

"Yes. It is the perfect time of year. The red irises bloom along with the bluebells."

"I have never seen so many."

He looked at her. Her eyes danced, her face shone with radiant joy. Lucius' eyes flicked over her face.

"It's the most beautiful sight I've ever seen."

Lucius Malfoy could not take his eyes off her. "Yes."

At last Hermione inhaled deeply and tore her eyes away from the vivid blue display beneath her. She smiled at him. "Red irises."

He smiled back. Not a smirk. A smile. She noticed. The lines around his mouth deepened beguilingly. "Red irises," he reiterated.

She followed him yet again until at length they came to a small cluster of tall flowers, growing at the base of a fir tree. Their long stems reached up, craving sunlight, and at the top, immaculate red petals forced their way from the womblike sheath they had been held captive in.

Malfoy had been right all along. A tingle of guilt ran through her that she had ever doubted him.

Hermione knelt, running her fingers lightly up a green stalk. "Perfect. Thank you so much, Mr Malfoy. This is wonderful – I so appreciate it."

She meant every word.

"You are very welcome."

So did he.

"Do you mind if I take three? That should be enough."

"You may take as many as you wish, Miss Granger."

She smiled up at him again. His groin ached, but his chest also felt heavy, as if a deep weight was pressing on it.

Hermione sliced the stems of the irises carefully with her wand and summoned a damp cloth to wrap around their cut ends. Lucius would not push things today. He could feel her melting; he did not wish to hasten the process unnecessarily. "That was possibly enough flying for one day. I shall walk you back to the Manor whence you may Apparate to your desired location."

She glanced at him, almost disappointed that she would not be sharing his broom again. "Thank you."

They strolled back through the woods. Lucius spoke easily and genuinely, his diction precise as she would expect, his language fluent, but lacking the pretentious ostentation she had previously associated with him. He conversed with unassuming intelligence about the potion she was brewing, offering tips which she conceded were new to her and most likely very helpful.

The dialogue turned eventually to their meeting in The Rowan Tree.

"You did not seem particularly pleased to see me the other day, Miss Granger."

She blushed scarlet. "Oh! No! I mean, I ..."

"You ignored me."

"Well, I ..." she looked up at him. "You are a Death Eater, Mr Malfoy."

"Were."

She merely smiled. "I was tortured in your house. The house I now find myself being led towards yet again."

"You have nothing to fear now. I have drawn a veil over that time."

She stopped, her head hanging as a slight laugh escaped her.

"What is the matter?"

She looked at him with incredulity. "This whole thing is the matter, Mr Malfoy. Here I am walking quite amicably through your land with you ... _you, _who represent everything I hate, abhor. I _hate _you ... I think."

"Well, in that case ... perhaps you should kill me now. You have your wand, do you not? What are you waiting for?" He brought his arms out to the side and raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Hermione laughed louder and smiled across at him. "Come on. Take me back to your Manor. I have to get on and brew this bloody potion." She walked past him, her wand still tucked safely in her pocket.

Lucius glanced at her long legs rising to the perfect rump as she glided past. His cock twitched. He sniffed in. _Patience._

Still, if things carried on as they were, he would require little more of it.

They continued contentedly back to the Manor. Hermione spoke quite freely about her job and recent changes in Wizarding Law. She found Lucius remarkably well-informed and insightful on the issues.

Time had passed. Perhaps she could be a little more magnanimous.

And he was so very easy on the eye.

"Well, here we are, Miss Granger." They had arrived back through the formal ornate gardens approaching the Manor, which rose up tall and magnificent before her. It was a beautiful, elegant Elizabethan building. Hermione felt an odd affinity with the calm serenity which seemed to link its present to its past. "Would you like to come in for some tea?"

She paused, opening her mouth. The man before her was looking down. The slight smirk was back. It disappointed her. "No. Thank you. I must go."

If Malfoy felt annoyance at her rebuttal, he did not show it. He could wait.

"You must at least let me know how your potion was received. After all, I like to think I had something to do with its production."

She managed a laugh again. "You certainly did, Mr Malfoy."

He tutted. "It has only just occurred to me that you have persisted in addressing me by my title throughout the afternoon. Please, there really is no need. It is Lucius."

She merely smiled. "I'll owl, letting you know how it went."

"I am at Gringott's tomorrow afternoon. You could join me for tea then, if you wished. An owl seems rather pointless under the circumstances."

She lowered her head. "I don't think that's a very good idea, do you?"

"I think it is a very good idea. Why ever would I have suggested it otherwise?"

She turned her eyes to his. She saw again that flash within the grey. His lips were turned up at the corners. If it was a smirk, she no longer registered it as such.

Hermione swallowed. "Very well."

Lucius' smile deepened. "When do you finish at the Ministry?"

"At about four o'clock."

"Shall we say half past four – at Algernon's?"

Algernon's was a discreet and intimate coffee shop tucked away in a side-street off Diagon Alley.

Hermione nodded. She felt suddenly very warm. Her mind was filled with the conversation she had engaged in with her friends. That discussion had not involved tea. Her mind was not thinking particularly about tea now.

She glanced up. "I'll ... see you tomorrow then. Thanks again for these." She indicated the irises.

"You are welcome ... again. Goodbye, Hermione."

"Goodbye, Lucius."

And then he bent down and kissed her on the cheek, just a polite kiss of social convention. Instinctively, she turned her head, offering the other cheek and brushing her lips against his cheek in turn. It was the sort of thing she did several times a day to all and sundry. So why this time did her breath hitch and her belly clench? And why was she certain his lips, remarkably soft and tender, had lingered for longer than necessary against her heated flesh. Why could she remember the soft fall of his breath upon her hair?

Not looking at him again, she withdrew her wand, muttered some words and Disapparated.

* * *

Lucius remained staring at the spot she had disappeared from for some time.

_What a terribly good day that was._

_And what an even better one tomorrow would be._

_

* * *

_

**And, like Lucius, you will have to wait until tomorrow for more. ;-) x**_  
_


	5. Miss Granger, again

**I know what you've all been waiting for ... Well, let's just say ... you need wait no longer.**

**And I adore these two together so much that there is another chapter just for them after this ... and then the epilogue which is VITAL.**

**Ready? Set? ... Go!**

* * *

Hermione got home and distilled the red iris pollen quickly and efficiently. She then set about brewing the memory potion. It was a complicated recipe and required her complete concentration.

It turned out as it should, but how she had managed it was beyond her.

She had been thinking about nothing but Lucius Malfoy since leaving him.

_Shit._

Were his actions deliberate? Was he seducing her?

Perhaps. She realised with only slight shame that she didn't really mind if he was. It all felt so good. And it had been so long since ... anything really ... companionship with a man, dialogue of any intellectual note ... sex ...

She shook her head. Would she allow herself to be led along the path she was now seemingly treading?

Turning off her light that night, she tried desperately not to think about it. She failed miserably.

She couldn't wait until four-thirty the next day.

* * *

Luckily, Hermione remained focused enough to demonstrate the memory potion on a volunteer wizard. It worked perfectly, as did the antidote immediately afterwards. It was to be used on prisoners in Azkaban with the aim of furthering their rehabilitation; selective parts of their memories would be targeted. It was a scheme the Ministry had been working on for years. Hermione's presentation was applauded by her bosses, including the Minister himself.

But when she was still answering questions at quarter past four, she became nervous. Time was ticking away.

At twenty five past she at last managed to escape. She found herself running through the Ministry corridors and out into Diagon Alley. Glancing around, Hermione struggled for a moment to remember the direction of Algernon's. When she had recalled it, she steadied her steps, trying not to draw too much attention to herself. A clock struck the half hour. Swearing under her breath, she jogged the remaining distance.

Malfoy was waiting outside. Her belly leapt as soon as she saw him.

"Hello." She ran up breathlessly, a laugh rising from her at her clear haste.

He exhaled a chuckle. "My my ... do you always arrive for appointments at breakneck speed, Miss Granger?"

She laughed again, still clutching her hand to her chest. "I didn't want to keep you waiting. And I thought you were going to call me Hermione?"

"Oh, I'm good at waiting ... Hermione. After you." He held the door open for her.

Sitting in a dark corner, they ordered tea.

"So did your potion ... go down well?"

She caught his eye and smiled. "Yes, it all went as I had hoped; I was pleased."

"Good. And did you impress the irrepressible Minister for Magic himself?"

She laughed. "He seemed happy. Yes, I suppose I did!"

Lucius glanced at her beaming face, alight with contained pride. Her cheeks were flushed from her earlier exertion and she wore a shirt with several buttons undone, revealing a teasing glimpse of the soft dusky rise of her breasts.

His patience would not last forever.

"You have not mentioned anyone special in your life, Hermione."

"By that do you mean a male someone special?"

"Unless your inclinations lean elsewhere," he teased.

She laughed. "I think the Daily Prophet would have cottoned onto that by now, if that was the case. No, I'm ... very much single. It's fine ... I suppose. I ... guess I'm quite picky."

"There are few men who would dare go near you, I should imagine."

"How am I supposed to interpret that?"

"As a compliment. We are a weak bunch, avoiding too much of a challenge."

"I'm sure you're the sort of man who would take on any challenge, Lucius." As soon as she had said it, her stomach dropped from within her. She looked away. She had not been referring specifically to the challenge of her, but that was how it had come across, she was sure. She bit her lip subconsciously.

Lucius could not take his eyes off her and found his lips turning up at the corners.

_So very close._

"I would like to show you something."

She looked up, startled. He smiled gently. "You will like it. I have arranged a private room upstairs."

Hermione blushed scarlet. What on earth did he mean? Lucius chuckled, sensing her insecurity. "It is something to do with yesterday. Come along."

Hermione could hardly stand. His motives sounded genuine, but to be taken to a room alone with him ... She was not sure she could stop herself ... she was not sure she wanted to stop. Standing tall, she allowed herself to be guided upstairs.

"In here."

Hermione found herself in a small, sparsely furnished room with only a table, small sofa and chair. Lucius shut the door and dimmed the lights. She could not help drawing a slight intake of breath, but did not step back.

But then he withdrew his wand and muttered some words. Light shot out from the tip and formed a swirling ball of glowing matter before spreading out into the room. All around her, suddenly and delicately, appeared the image of the bluebell wood. It was as if she was there again.

Hermione's eyes widened with the thrill of it. She reached out her hands and bent down; she could almost touch the flowers brushing her fingertips. They waved in an unfelt breeze, their colour dancing before her eyes.

She laughed aloud. "How did you do that? I have never seen magic like it before!"

"It is a diversion spell. Artists and performers use them."

Hermione walked around the room, the three dimensional images of the bluebells swaying around her ankles just as they had the day before. "Oh, Lucius ... so beautiful. Thank you. It's such a completely enchanting thing to do!"

_Enchanting._

She stood as an imaginary rush of wind caught the flowers and the trees and swirled them. Hermione laughed and twirled too, spinning around with delight. But her balance was impeded and she spun off centre, landing with a jolt against his chest.

Immediately his hands came down to her waist, holding her tight against him.

Hermione stared up, searching his eyes, looking for an excuse to run, looking for the cold arrogance, the haughty disdain. She saw none of it, simply a deep certainty flashing through eyes of the most hypnotic purity she could imagine.

"Lucius ..."

Questions, doubt and reason were pushed from Hermione's mind.

Her hands ran up his chest, around his neck, her soft fingertips caressing even in their rapid progress. She held his head, turned her eyes to his lips, and drew him down to her.

When his lips touched hers, Lucius Malfoy felt a surge of such pleasure he wondered if he could resist ploughing into her right there and then. Normally, he simply would have done.

But not this time. The girl's lips moved over his, softly at first, but with a heady sensuality which took his breath away.

"Beautiful, beautiful witch ..." his murmur was caught against her breath.

"Mudblood ..." came the sighed correction.

"Shh ... shh, my sweet creature ... not now ... ssh ..."

They stood, the two of them, their hunger to taste and explore the other slow and sensual. It had been so long since Hermione had felt the taste of a man's mouth on her, but now Lucius explored and soothed her with such sublime perfection it was as if she was being kissed for the first time. She opened her mouth and felt his tongue slip inside idly, running over the inside of her lips, teasing her.

He was holding her head gently, his hands cupped just below her ears, tilting it slightly to concentrate. Her own hands had moved to his shoulders and her fingers instinctively found some strands of hair, running them through the tips, feeling the silken softness tickling her.

A voice momentarily questioned inside Lucius' head – why was he not yet inside this woman?

He ignored it. Her submission before him, her capitulation, her acquiescence – it brought out in him such a swell of emotion he could hardly identify it. His cock strained agonisingly against the thick material holding it in, his balls throbbed in rage, but he forced his mind to focus only on the slow liquid pleasure derived from this woman's mouth upon him.

It was Hermione who moved first. Her hand slipped down, grazing the hardness so prominent between his legs. He groaned into her mouth and her move brought him out of his reverie. His mouth moved to her ear, his hot breath agonising it with sensuality. She inhaled the longest breath of desire.

"Lie down, Hermione ... lie down for me ..." The husky whisper was barely audible, but Hermione's body had heard enough. With his supple guidance, she lay across the sofa, immediately parting her legs to welcome him. But he returned to her head and continued kissing her.

A ball of fiery need raged within Hermione's belly and she arched up, grabbing now for his shoulders, running her hands around his back, willing him towards her.

"Please, please ... I want you ... I need you so much."

He ignored her pleas but moved down her neck, his mouth trailing damp humid pleasure as he went. "My beautiful witch ... I want to show you ... I want to show you how beautiful you are to me ..."

He slipped down away from her. Hermione's skin was covered with the thinnest layer of burning ice: her breath now coming in hitching gasps. She abandoned her quest to draw him into her and opened herself to him in any way he wished.

His hands were parting her legs, which he found to be long and elegant, just as he had imagined. They were beguilingly enclosed in remarkably puritanical tights, a sight which gave him a perverse thrill. His fingers ran up to her slender waist and gripped the waist band, tugging hard. She lifted her hips, allowing him to drag them off her body. Lucius glanced up, noting the perfect curve of her rump: firm, plump and round. He smirked, but did not allow himself to be distracted. _All in good time. _He was enjoying his slow seduction of this magnificent woman so much that his own pleasure was momentarily forgotten.

Under the tights were white cotton knickers. When Hermione realised his hands had reached them, a flicker of embarrassment ran through her. With no one to dress for recently, she had gone for the simplest option with regard to underwear.

Her demure choice of lingerie was certainly no deterrent to Lucius. He found the virginal simplicity such a turn-on he had to bury his head against the back of her knee and mask his delight in a groan of pleasure.

But soon the white knickers followed the tights onto the floor and Hermione found her legs once again parting willingly and hungrily for him. Surely he must come inside her now. Her clit burned, her pussy ached with need.

But the man between her legs was kissing and nuzzling the firm flesh of her thighs, slowly drawing himself up towards the exotic scent of lust floating down to him.

He turned his head towards his goal. The Mudblood's arousal was evident upon the glistening soft flesh she had exposed so willingly to him. She clearly kept herself neat and trimmed but had not felt the need to remove all evidence of her female potency like her friends. She was still a woman, a fact he was more than happy to be reminded of.

And then he was there. Hermione sucked in a sharp breath as she felt the firm wet heat lick from bottom to top, ending in a tingling circumnavigation of her already primed clit.

She tasted of peaches, over-ripe and bruised, left in the heat of a summer day; a taste which took him crashing back to his childhood. He opened his mouth, opened her womanhood and dredged her essence up and into him.

Hermione bucked involuntarily, prompting him to press down with controlled force on her stomach. His discovery of the raw quintessence of this Muggle-born was making this feasting the most satisfying he had ever had.

He pushed two fingers hard up inside her, a grunt of urgency heaving out of him, low and guttural. Curling them around, he found that slight spongy place which would bind her to him. He tapped and rubbed it tenderly at first and felt her writhe under him. His tongue returned to her clit, and he concentrated on absorbing and giving.

Hermione's breath came in ragged gasps. Her muscles clenched, her belly tightened. She had become so used to controlling her own pleasure that delivering it over into the hands of another sent a shiver of expectant fear over her. Lovers invariably disappointed her. But this man seemed to read her as she would read herself.

As soon as her pleasure swelled to the point at which she would break, he stilled, pulling back momentarily and allowing her body to catch up with itself, raising itself to the next level of sensual awareness.

But at last she was ready. She could be pulled out no further, and as his mouth fully encircled her clit and he sucked, she came convulsively, shuddering against him, her pleasure washing through her in rising waves.

Hermione cried out, a cry heard only by Lucius.

He moved back from her and stayed looking down for some time. She did not open her eyes at first, simply lay, her breasts rising and falling in sated fatigue.

After a while she glanced around the room. The bluebells had disappeared. Turning her gaze up to Lucius, she held out her hand for him. He took it lightly but did not bend to her. She sat up blearily and pushed herself to her feet, pressing against him.

He fully intended to continue what he had so magnificently started right here and now, but then the woman moved against him, pushing her slim beauty against his agonised tumescence yet again.

"Lucius ... magnificent, magnificent man ... take me back there ... I want you to take me back there ..."

He turned his grey eyes down to her. "We shall have to fly again."

Her response came in another kiss, deep and hot.

Hermione managed to retrieve her tights and knickers from the floor and push them into her bag before he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her out of the room. His broom stood at the back of the tea shop. This time she had no hesitation in sitting behind him and curled her hands hard against him, resting her head in the dip between his shoulder blades. He took off immediately, desire propelling him with blind haste towards their destination.

All fear of flying had been banished, but Hermione took little time to look around her at the view.

Her hands gripped him as tightly as the previous day, but this time she had slipped a hand between the buttons of his shirt and was pressing her inquisitive hand against the swell of solid muscle she found. Her fingers quested further, brushing against the hard tight nub of a nipple. Lucius hissed, the broomstick jerking erratically. Hermione turned her head into his back and inhaled, breathing in his scent once again. Her other hand reached down and found the rigid confirmation of his need. She rubbed over it, lifting the tight sac a little, providing him with welcome relief from his awkward position on the broom.

Lucius flew on, lust hurling them through the buoyant late afternoon sunshine.

At last, Malfoy Manor was below them. Lucius sank low on his broom and directed it towards the ground. They alighted close to the place they had arrived the previous day. Immediately he lifted her off and pulled her behind him once again.

After the initial darkness, the wood opened out and she found herself surrounded by the heady hue of the bluebells. Her head fell back and her arms opened.

Turning to the man beside her, she beamed at him, a smile of unbridled sensual pleasure.

For a moment he could only stare. Why had there never been a woman like this before? Had the early days with his wife contained similar moments? He hoped they had, but he remembered only stifling expectation and furtive moments away from prying family eyes. And since then ... he had sated his needs as he had wanted - quick, elusive incidents, such as the ones recently with Parkinson and Weasley. The latter would be remembered, but paled in comparison to the Granger girl now tripping through the cobalt carpet at her feet.

And then she turned and her face lost the smile. Still he did not move. He watched, spellbound, as her hands reached up to her shirt, unbuttoning it deftly and pushing it from her shoulders. It tumbled to the ground. Her breasts were held snugly in the same white cotton as her knickers, the nipples prominent through the thin material. But she moved away from them, and unzipped the skirt clinging round her waist. It slid rapidly down her thighs. She was naked beneath. And then at last her hands returned around her back and she unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the ground.

She stood before him, as naked and immaculate as the nature surrounding her.

Lucius looked on her, his eyes blinded by the sheer beauty presented to him.

To his eyes, she was perfect. Her breasts, firm and round, rose effortlessly from her body, before her slender waist dipped on an erotic tangent into her rounded hips, accentuated by a teasing prominence of hipbone, daring to poke out from her fecund flesh.

And then her legs tumbled below, long but shapely, ending in little toes painted with a dark pink varnish, slightly chipped.

Lucius Malfoy was nearly overwhelmed.

She moved towards him, slow and sensual, but so unassuming, unaware almost of her own erotic power. She was touching him now, her hand running up his chest again, beginning to undo his own clothes.

"Lucius ... make love to me ..." The sound of the voice he had heard only yesterday haranguing the pathetic shopkeeper in Diagon Alley, now beseeching in low sensual currents ... he moved his hands to his shirt and hastened her efforts.

When his torso was exposed, the girl lowered her head to it and planted light kisses of delight over his flesh. He sucked in a breath, his head falling back as his mind swam with revelation.

He had almost forgotten the raging erection which had throbbed its need since he had gone down on her in the tea shop.

Now he remembered as her hands nimbly sought to undo the buckles keeping him from her.

And then he was released and kicked his trousers aside rapidly. His cock swayed out like a caged beast free at last. Hermione took in the sight and staggered back, not with fear, but with the need for him to enter her.

She lay down on the blue, her hands running over her lush breasts, cupping them almost unawares, her legs opening, parting for him, willing him into her.

All the while her eyes could not leave the sight of his huge erection, bobbing slightly as he lowered himself upon her.

"Come inside me ... please ... I want you, I want you so, so much ..."

Lucius lay atop her. His hands caressed the smooth flesh he found, running up to cup her breast. But his cock heaved in protest at having been denied for so long. Holding himself carefully, he pressed into her, the head of his substantial member parting her sodden lips slowly and tentatively, delighting as she gripped him, inviting him further and further into her.

Hermione's eyes rolled back, but immediately she turned them back to him, her teeth biting into her bottom lip. "More."

Still he edged in, pleasure engulfing him so slowly it made his head swim.

"More." Her entreaty could not be ignored. With a firmer push he was at last fully inside. She exhaled long and slow as she focused on his sheer size crammed into her like nothing before.

His arms came up and he held her head gently, guiding her eyes to meet his again.

"Hermione ..."

She bucked against him, causing pleasure to grip him in a vise. He sucked in a sharp breath and pulled out, compelled to begin moving within her. She met his every thrust with a perfect synchronised rhythm, raising her hips to greet him as he inhabited her body.

He stared down, her hair splayed out on the forest floor, her eyes vacant save only for the fire of lust burning deep within.

And then suddenly, her leg moved around him and using his own weight, she spun him around onto his back. Hermione threw her head back with delight and sucked in a long breath before staring down.

Lucius frowned with surprised pleasure, the thrill of her sudden dominance astounding him. His hands gripped her hips, but she needed no guidance. Placing her hands on his abdomen she moved, fluid and tight, her breasts swaying with each swell of her body, her pussy clenching upon him with controlled rhythmic certainty, not too fast, but not slow enough to frustrate him.

She held his gaze, her own pleasure written so clearly on her face he almost wept. Her breath hitched: a little sharp intake so sublimely erotic it caused his cock to jolt up into her. The switch in control excited him immeasurably, but she did not ride his body wantonly as some women would; she poured herself upon him, using her undulating flesh to give as much as to take, delighting in their shared erotic power. It was too much for Lucius.

He had waited so long, he could not hold on any longer.

"Please, please, come for me ..." Was it his own voice on the air? Yet the words astounded him. Was he pleading for the woman's pleasure above his own? He was not one to leave a woman unsatisfied, but never had he been so keen to feel another's rapture beyond his.

His thumb came down to find her clit, stroking over it gently, knowing how it would bring her to the edge. And then he watched as her mouth gaped, her eyes creased in wonder akin to pain, and she came: a sharp cry of rapture pulled from her crimson, swollen mouth. He felt her; her flesh clenched and spasmed around him, milking him of his own pleasure.

Lucius cried out into the vast expanse of his own land, the trees themselves soaking up their master's ecstasy. Bursting into her, his great sobbing spurts of abandon exploded into her very being.

And then she slumped upon him, her body dragging in air as if she had denied herself breath until now. Lucius held her, his arm hanging loosely across her back. Eventually she rolled to the side and lay beside him amidst the flowers, staring over. She thought him the most exquisite sight, skin and sinew and white of hair, tangled amidst the blue haze beneath.

Lucius' breath came fast and heavy for longer than normal after a coupling, particularly one where the woman had worked him on top. He stared up, the canopy of the trees shifting, waving, dark and silhouetted against the bright blue of the sky beyond.

His eyes creased, trying to focus.

_Blue above. Blue below._

Something teased and prodded inside. He shifted away from it, but it followed him with a snarl.

And then he felt her lips on his shoulder, just where the collarbone ended, rising up hard and round. Soft and warm and ripe and giving: moving, nibbling, kissing, tasting.

There it was again, stronger yet; that cloying niggle, that persistent poking finger.

It came out suddenly, surprisingly. Again, he hardly recognised his own voice.

"I have been with your friends."

The lips stopped. Hermione raised herself up, her features belying the panic which was surely already writhing furiously within.

"What?"

He turned his head and looked at her. He could not stop now. "I slept with your friends. The two in the restaurant. One the same day, the other two days later."

_Confession. _

Now he understood that urge others had talked of; he had never seen the need for it. Until now.

Hermione removed her eyes from his. She did not move at first, then rolled over and curled her legs up, childlike and small, staring out along the forest floor, through the purpling petals of the flowers crushed by their sex.

He was silent, staring at her hip bone, noting how it rose out in almost defiant sharpness, unlike her other curves.

"I tell you this because ... I feel the need to acknowledge the trust you have placed in me."

She did not turn around.

He spoke again, once again not entirely sure where the words had emerged from.

"I am not a good man, Hermione. But I know that I want you and I will do what needs to be done to get that."

At last she turned her head back to him. Her eyes were red, clearly wet with tears, but he noted that no more were now falling, and instead, cutting through the anger and despair was a determination, a burn.

"Fly me again."

She stood up suddenly, putting her clothes back on, not looking at him. He too dressed, his fingers somehow failing him in his attempts to button up his shirt.

Hermione paced quickly back towards the broom. He stared after her for a moment, prickling with frustration, despair even. He had wanted more, and now his needs were being thwarted. But it was not resentment of her which forced his anger. For the first time he cursed his fucking libido, the drive which had made him screw Parkinson and Weasley.

Hermione climbed on, his broom obeying even her sudden dictatorial command. She looked steadily at him as he got on in front of her, but did not speak.

They took off, Lucius pointing the broom back towards London.

"No. That way." She indicated over her shoulder, towards the west. It was by now growing rapidly dark. "Hurry." Her voice had a cold insistence to it he had never previously heard.

He flew, fast, some unknown urgency propelling him through the gathering gloom of evening. She motioned him towards the south coast and they followed it, watching the coastline become ever more rugged and jagged as they approached the South West peninsula. When in open skies, still well below Muggle flight paths, skilled practitioners could fly at speeds of several hundred miles an hour. It was not long before Hermione pulled on his shoulder, telling him to slow. She pointed far below. He could see stretches of golden sand interspersed with crumbling cliffs, hewn not by the giants of folklore, but by the sea, pounding and ripping at the rock.

"Cornwall," she declared. "Land of legend and magic."

They flew on further until they could go no more. They had reached the end of the land. Lucius flew closer, and then, just before the tumbling rocks fell their last into the biting ocean, Hermione pointed out a small building, a sparking granite against the purple of the clifftop, its slate roof grey with flashes of silver.

"Down there. Go on."

He turned his broom down. The sun was about to vanish over the horizon straight out before them. He was cold. He could tell by the grip on his shoulders that she was too.

They landed. Hermione dismounted rapidly, striding towards the cottage.

"My parents' friends own this – a holiday cottage. I come here often to get away from everything."

He had not moved but stood back, still not quite believing what had happened. She turned back to him with a look verging on surprised annoyance. "Come on!"

She had opened the door with magic. Lucius followed her in almost hesitantly. He could not read her. She had brought him here, but her attitude still seemed frosty.

Hermione lit a fire in the hearth with her wand. The night had grown chill and the cottage had clearly not been lived in for several weeks. He was grateful for the deep russet flames which quickly began to dispel a melting warmth into the small room.

"Why have you brought me here?"

"I usually come here alone. Nobody knows me here. This is my sanctuary. No ties, no associations. I can be exactly who I want to be here, do exactly what I want."

"And what do you want, Hermione?"

For a moment she held his gaze, still defiant. He wondered momentarily if she would strike him.

"I want you to fuck me."

* * *

**More tomorrow. x**


	6. Miss Granger, still

**And yet another chapter for Hermione. She seems to be getting under his skin ... and he under hers! A few of you expressed surprise at her last line in the previous chapter. I think she simply has thrown of the shackles of conformity. She realised that his confession was something extraordinary, and although very distressing in itself, represented a shift in his treatment of her. She knows what a cad he was, yet she has still fallen for him and senses he is falling for her. And now, she will meet him at his own game - and that in itself will floor him.**

**Remember, I said this was essentially a) a Lucius smut-fest and b) a Lumione. I cannot ever ignore the romance; it's me!**

**Onwards - have the cold showers at the ready ...**

* * *

Hermione's hands came up and, not taking her eyes from his once, she removed all her clothes, smoothly and deftly.

It had taken Lucius some time to grasp all that had happened since he had told her about his recent exploits. But now, he knew his eyes had hardened, as had his cock. He almost regretted revealing his shift in attitude. But not quite.

Now that she was before him he could no longer hesitate in doing what needed to be done.

"Turn around." His voice was low and insistent, a voice which at any other time would have sent a shockwave of fear running through her.

But that sleepless snake called lust simply uncoiled itself deep within her. She did as he asked.

For a moment she felt nothing, but then there was the lightest breath on the back of her head. He blew softly on her, aiming it down over her shoulders before it changed, shifting into a less focussed and warmer caress of air. Still she shivered.

Still he did not touch her.

In the few seconds it had taken to approach her, Lucius Malfoy had managed to rid himself of all his clothes and derived a secret pleasure from knowing that the Mudblood was unaware of this.

She suspected it when, still denying her the blessing of flesh upon flesh, he came so close behind her that her downy hairs seemed to rise up towards him, reaching with longing to be stroked, touched, smoothed.

And then the voice again. She resisted turning around. His hot breath was on the shell of her ear, but still he denied her contact.

He distilled his words into her, dripping each with honeyed richness along her mind, soft, tender, and deadly. "When I came upon you in the restaurant that day, even then ... I could see only you. You know that, don't you? My body, my flesh, my cock ... they wanted you, just you ... then and there. I waited ... I humoured my desire in the only ways I could until my real goal was attainable.

"What were you thinking? That first time? Sitting there, so tight and neat and restrained, all bravado and defiant indifference, your desire pulled in so tight it was choking you, your ignored needs so constricting as to strangle? Did you want me? Did you want me then, along with your preening friends with their open thighs and their beckoning eyes? Did you ... Hermione?"

He dropped her name into her ear. And then his hand was up, soft and delicate, cupping her jaw and lifting, inclining her head back, turning it towards his enquiring mouth.

Lips replaced words in his exploration, so tender as to make her question their reality. And her name again, kissed so low and dangerous upon her cheek, "Hermione ..."

"Yes ..."

His hands had reached round to her belly. He allowed his fingertips a slow progress of random steps up along the skin, hot and smooth under them. Up they travelled until the exquisite rise of her breasts necessitated him cupping them in his palms and feeling them full yet light in their pert prominence. For a time he could simply hold them, catching the nipples between fore- and middle-fingers, squeezing, drawing her head up and round, close to him to absorb the barely perceptible intake of breath.

His mouth moved again, keen to taste and explore, down to the neck, bared and open for him.

"Not gentle ..."

His eyes rose to listen.

"Not gentle." It was repeated. "I am so tired ... so tired of gentle."

Lucius had his cue.

His mouth opened wide and, at the same time as his fingers compressed her nipples hard and flat, he sank the hungry edge of his teeth into her skin. It was not enough to draw blood or even mark, but her eyes flashed open with the shock and the pain and the brilliance of it.

He dragged his mouth heavily back to her ear, her hair catching along his dark, dusk-induced stubble. "Hands and knees. Down now."

A tremor ran through Hermione: desire and apprehension and delight conjoined in one shudder of sensation.

Her knees buckled almost before she had instructed them, and she placed herself before him, naked and open.

Barely able to control himself, Lucius knelt. But then he pulled back. The sight was one of such perfection, such splendour, that he wanted to dismantle it and build it again, to tear her apart so profoundly and then recreate her himself, for him only.

Yes, he would fuck her. He would fuck her into being his.

Placing the flat of his palm on the small of her back, he ran it along her spine, pressing down as he went so that when he reached the sharp unctuous dip between her shoulder-blades her upper body sank further into the floor. He glanced back as her rear spread itself more for him, revealing her distended and wet, shining with expectation in the firelight.

His fingers opened her, drawing a soft gasp. He brought the head of his cock towards the place he had opened, rubbing to smear the pre-cum around it.

"Now, as you wished, Mudblood ... I will fuck you."

He drove forward and was fully inside her in a split-second. Hermione cried out in pain. It hurt. She wanted it to hurt.

"Do it!" Never had she been so coldly insistent.

He pulled out fully, positioned himself with precision and impaled himself in her body again. She buckled, but before she could collapse his hands had gripped her hard around the hips, clawing her flesh and pulling her back. She cried out again.

Again.

And again.

And again.

His rhythm of merciless thrusts was met by a cry from the woman upon him, but while the force of the drives into her did not lessen, the sounds from her shifted from cries in the pang of pain to muffled grunts.

He pulled her hips up again, in towards him. His pace did not settle but he forced himself to concentrate only on her pleasure, subduing his own. She would come, she would come so much and so completely she would forget all she was. And she would be his.

Hermione felt only red heat. His pounding into her did not lessen. She did not wish it to. Sounds escaped her necessarily, but as she absorbed him with each drive, her body began simply to hum in time with him.

And then she was silent. And Lucius recognised that perfect silence of female concentration as her body prepared and focused. He was moving inside her, so right, so perfect, that reaction had abandoned her.

He knew that unique female stillness well from his many years of women and fucking and bedrooms and doorways and bodies. And now he looked down to study himself coming and going from this perfect body, aiming his cock deep, as if penetrating all the way between her scythe-like shoulder blades. At first he himself did not keep his silence, his compulsion to dominate a situation hard to subdue. But at length his grunting gasps were swallowed hard inside and he revelled in two senses alone: sight and touch.

And then she came, and the silence was suddenly and irreparably ripped apart as she cried out with explosive force and revelation.

She came so hard that her body clamped and gripped him with such confirming strength that his head fell back and exultant laughter broke from him to penetrate and collide with her cry in the still air.

Hermione's body sagged forward, struggling to pull in breath. He slipped out and lay beside her on the floor, his breath as ragged as hers despite not yet coming himself.

She moved heavily over, dragging her head onto his chest, dropping a hand limply on his damp torso.

"I wanted that. I needed that so fucking much, Lucius."

He smiled. Her words gave him that usual self-satisfied thrill, but this time the feeling seemed to sink deeper.

"I haven't ever ..." She was struggling to express herself. "It's never been like that for me. Ever. I don't think I'll ever feel that way again. I don't think I can."

He pushed himself up to look down at her. Hermione could hardly bear to look back, so intense was his gaze.

"No, my darling, my hot, sweet darling, I am going to make you come again and again. I am going to make you come until you are torn apart and forget who you are, do you understand me?" He stood, pulling her with him, and practically dragged her up the stairs until they found a bedroom. Hermione found herself virtually thrown onto the bed. Lucius came up onto it knees first and grabbed her, pulling her again towards him. He was kneeling on his haunches, his cock still hard and wet, coated in her pleasure, leaking his anticipation.

Roughly, he manoeuvred her legs into straddling him, pulling her so she was kneeling with her legs on either side of his hips. He brought his hands down to feel her.

"Push yourself up. Let me see." His voice was oddly clinical, but the snake within Hermione squirmed and writhed so desperately now that any word she could catch from his lips simply goaded it yet more. Grasping his shoulders and bracing herself, she moved her body up as much as possible to be in line with his cock.

Lucius' fingers felt her outer lips, pulling the soft flesh apart with remarkable determination, all the while creasing his brows as he studied his task, placing his cock so as to sink up into her.

His hand moved up to her shoulder and, raising his eyes to her, he pushed her down onto him.

She could only groan. Her eyes closed and she concentrated on deep, hard cock.

"Open your eyes." They shot open immediately. "Move like you did in the wood. I want to fuck you like that. Only more."

She started to rock on him, gripping with her pussy, her body rippling deep and slow over him as her teeth once again bit into the plump flesh of her lower lip.

"Yes ... yes, witch. Do you feel that?"

She moaned in assent.

His hand came up between her breasts, running hard fingers over the prominence of her sternum before pressing down. He pushed her back so that her spine arced away from him and her hair dangled full and lush behind her. His hands moved behind her and he placed one on each of those exquisite shoulder blades.

And then he lowered his head and brought his mouth over a nipple. Immediately he took it between his teeth and tugged it out, pulling the breast up with it in his force, glancing up to view her reaction.

"Aaow ..." It was a cry of pain, but almost immediately was lost on the air as her breath followed it out in rapt concentration of the sensations he was evoking in her.

Such a perfect sound. He bit again. Again her short shocked whimper thrilled him. Still she moved, her body flexing and milking and drawing his own pleasure out.

_No. Not yet._

His hand came down and he drummed on her clit, willing her to come again, knowing she would.

His teeth tightened, his cock pushed up into her pulsing heat, his thumb rubbed on the hot knot of flesh between her legs.

She came again, this time wailing, tears threatening as her head hung limply back.

And then he was out of her, pushing her down, rolling her onto her front, and into her again, lying himself flat against her back, stroking, controlling it himself this time, harder, harder, her body caught between the bed and him. But he was there again, hitting that perfect place. She squeezed her eyes, this time tears falling. Surely it was hurting. Wasn't it? She tried to define it. Was that sensation, that feeling of at once being destroyed and reborn, was it pain or pleasure?

"You will come now. You will come." His voice was hot in her ear again, lethal in its tenderness.

As she handed over all she was to him, her orgasm tore through her once more.

And at last, Lucius released himself and shot up into her, time and time again, knowing his seed was propelled hard and fast into her body, her body now sanctified and screaming with life.

He lay atop her. Hermione could scarcely breathe, could certainly not move, pinned as she was beneath him. But she was sure her body would defy her even if she tried. Her limbs, such as they were, were surely liquid, seeping into the mattress beneath.

His hair fell around her, tickling, light and fine – a welcome feeling among the heavy stupor which had sunk through her.

She did actually need to breathe.

"I ... Luciu ..."

He understood and reluctantly pushed up and off her, his still-firm cock remaining inside her. He glanced down, rocking it in and out a little more, watching as it emerged glistening from their coupling.

And then he was gone from within her, and Hermione immediately missed him. She clenched her empty pussy, clenched her thighs, hated his absence, but felt his remnant wet and thick upon her skin.

She rolled tenderly over; her insides ached, but only with the loss of him. Lucius sniffed in and sat up, handing her a tissue from the box beside the bed. It was such a casual, domestic thing to do, she almost wept at the conjugal complicity of it.

Her mind, like her body, was numb. There was nothing that could be said. They both acknowledged it and for some time silence hung peaceably about them both.

"I almost feel like a cigarette."

Hermione glanced up at Lucius. "Funny – you don't look like a cigarette."

He turned to her, his eyes searching her quizzically. For a while he simply didn't get it. But her teasing smirk at last registered with him and the corners of his mouth curled up. "Muggle humour."

"If that's what you want to call it. Do you want a cigarette? The owner of this place smokes – I can probably find one."

"No. I didn't mean it – I can't abide the things."

"Did you ever smoke?"

"A little - in my defiant youth."

"Were you a terribly defiant youth?" She had by now pushed herself up, sensation gradually returning to her limbs, and propped herself up on one elbow beside him. She was surprisingly grateful to be chatting without the intense, overwhelming sensuality which had so overtaken them.

"On occasion."

"What made you stop?"

"My father's threat to disown me." She looked at him in surprise. He stared fixedly ahead. "I wasn't terribly keen on the idea of the Manor going to some distant upstart cousin."

"Rather more than just the odd occasion then."

He smirked almost imperceptibly. "Perhaps."

"In what ways did you test your father?"

He at last turned to her. "Are you always so inquisitive?"

"Yes."

"I spent a lot of money in a very short period of time. I had a penchant for ... various things ... Quidditch ..."

"Playing?"

"Betting."

She raised her eyebrows.

"I suppose I had what you would call an addictive personality."

"What else were you addicted to?"

"Good clothes, good wine, good women."

She swallowed.

"Are you still?"

"No. It worked – his threat. It pulled me up while I was still young enough to grow out of it ... most of it ..."

"Was he grateful for your reformation?"

"Relieved, I suppose."

"The prodigal son ..."

There was a silence.

"You said you had grown out of most of it ... Do some things still linger?" She almost feared his response.

"I still enjoy sex ... as you can probably tell."

"Are you addicted to it?"

He turned to her, searching her eyes. "I think perhaps I am addicted to you."

That was enough. Again, she allowed herself to melt into him. He kissed over her face, so tender and soft now that she could scarcely believe he was the same man.

"Do you have to work tomorrow?" he whispered against her throat.

"I'll owl in sick."

"That would be ... most desirable ..."

"Most desirable ..."

"Most ..."

They slept little that night; it was only when the weak light of dawn started to nudge over the horizon that sleep at last took them both.

As she opened her eyes later in the day, Hermione could tell the sun was not shining.

However, that thought filled her more with delight than recrimination. As she lay still, she focused on the sounds around her: wind tormenting the eaves; rain tapping insistently but intermittently on glass; the regular roar of the sea, unstinting and eternal; and breathing, deep heavy breathing of Man beside her.

She pulled her eyes open and turned. Lucius lay, his arm slung back over his head exposing his broad torso, the collar bone pronounced under the pale skin.

It had not occurred to her to question her actions. His disclosure of being with her friends had tormented her only for a moment. But that was then, behind her, and for the purpose of having her. She believed that. In a warped way, she believed him.

Never had she felt such pleasure, never had she come so much in such a short space of time. Her insides groaned – they were indeed tender from his relentless inhabitation of her body, possession which had continued through most of the night.

She stared at him now, in the innocence and ignorance of sleep. She tried to see the child in him, imagined his mother looking at him in his slumber when he was an infant.

She saw the boy in the long, full, and surprisingly dark eyelashes, but no more. Hermione smiled a slight wry smile and reached up to stroke back a stray hair which dangled over his cheek.

With a start and a sharp inhalation of breath he jerked fully up, his eyes wide, staring, his breath heaving through him. "What is that?"

Hermione gasped, recoiling in shock, fearful of the sudden exposure of his soul. "It's alright. It's only me. I'm sorry. I ... touched you, that's all."

Lucius' eyes darted to hers. Sweat had broken out rapidly on his forehead. Closing his eyes again, he collapsed back on the bed. Tentatively, Hermione returned to him and stroked again, keen to reassure him of the simple honesty of her actions. "It's alright. I'm sorry. It's alright." She continued to smooth along his forehead. He did not react, and she feared she was intruding, so she desisted.

"Don't stop."

Hermione gazed at him, the child suddenly clearer now than in sleep. She smiled and brought her hand up gently to resume her careful ministrations.

"That is good."

"What were you dreaming about?"

"I do not remember. I never remember." His eyes at last opened and cast over her face.

How had she ever considered this man to be arrogant? Leaning down, she kissed him softly and innocently. His hands held her head gently against him, lost in her healing touch.

"Lucius ..."

He could not stop kissing her. He felt her pulling back a little and it pained him.

"Lucius ... I want to make you feel better." She was murmuring against his skin, her body slipping down over his. "Will you let me make you feel better?"

Those honeyed lips were kissing down over his abdomen. He arched up into her, knowing what was to happen. He found himself anticipating it as if for the first time.

When Hermione's lips closed around the large and protuberant head of his cock he nearly cried out with pure white joy. Instead, he turned his head into his arm which was flung back over his head and muffled his exclamation.

She was gentle at first, and with any other lover he would have feared he would not come, but he lay perfectly still as her tongue dipped around him, licking delicately but with complete acquiescence. After a while she seemed to grow bolder and sank down onto him more, applying more pressure. He groaned appreciatively.

Her hand then took his lower length, gripping and pumping it while her lips and tongue continued to work the head and upper shaft.

"Beautiful girl ... beautiful girl ..." His hand came down instinctively and held her there. For a time the perfection of the moment almost made him forget himself, but as his groin tightened again, he lifted himself up and drew her head off him. "Move off me, so close ... so close ..."

Hermione shook his hands off with remarkable force and plunged her mouth down hard again, pulling her lips and tongue in around him. It took no more. His breath caught and he shuddered, shooting up into her with long gasps of complete pleasure.

Lucius settled back, his eyes closed, then before he forgot, reached across to hand her a tissue. She did not need it. She had swallowed him.

"My sweet, sweet creature ... I had not intended ... I am sorry."

She crept up to him. "You don't see me complaining, do you?"

He shook his head weakly.

"Well then, stop worrying about it."

He smiled. "What a perfect thing you are."

"Are you telling me you don't normally come in a woman's mouth?"

"I would not presume to without some warning."

"Then you are more of a gentleman than most men I know."

He smirked. _Gentleman. _For her, he would be anything.

They stayed in bed for most of the day, sleeping, making love, eating, fucking. Her pleasure was channelled so perfectly in him, and his in hers, that they questioned how they could ever move from the cottage again.

In the late afternoon, Hermione managed to drag herself out of the bed and dress. She smiled at him. "Come on. We'll go for a walk along the cliffs. It's just a bit windy. The sea will be magnificent."

He could only follow her.

She burst out of the cottage and ran the short distance over to the edge of the cliff, stopping just before it. Lucius came up and gripped her hand. "Be careful."

She turned to him with a laugh. "I know this place well. And I am careful."

His face hardened. "But you are with me."

She looked steadily at him for a time, the wind lashing his hair, then reached up to kiss him long and deep. Pulling back, she took his hand and pulled him along with her on the cliff. Below them the waves pounded the rocks. The sea was steely grey, churning and rocking mercilessly, little crests of white brilliance catching the tops of the seething waves. The coast stretched behind them, jagged and rough-hewn, before them, only ocean; there was no more land.

Hermione stopped and breathed in. Lucius watched.

And then she moved back and held him again, searching his eyes. For an instant, he was almost unnerved.

In that moment, the grey of the ocean and the grey of his eyes were indistinguishable to her. "Like the sea," Hermione murmured, staring deep into them. His brows tightened with puzzlement. "And, like the sea, with the power to entice and entrance and imprison ... and kill."

And the grey eyes darkened, almost shamed. Still she stared into them as the noise of the waves pounded through him.

He held her close and spoke, open honesty in his voice. "You must not fear."

"I do not fear, Lucius. I never fear."

The woman's direct determination staggered him. He knew he could not let her go.

"Must I imprison you in order to have you?"

Still her eyes did not leave his. She shook her head.

And there on the cliff top, the wind beating around them, they stood, as true and fast as any rock. And Lucius Malfoy held her tight, lowered his head, and kissed her.

* * *

***sigh***

**Thoughts?**

**Epilogue tomorrow. It is very important.**


	7. Epilogue

**Here we are. The end. Thanks to cytl101 for pointing out that I had bizarrely put Lucius 'comes across three _wizards_' and not 'three _witches_' in the summary. What the heck was going on there, I really don't know - it was a case of fingers over-ruling brain. I hope no-one thought this was going to be a slash fic!**

**Anyway - I hope you have enjoyed Lucius' journey. He has changed a bit - thanks to our assertive bookworm. This was never supposed to be a fic that explored emotional reasoning too much, but, having said that, that turned out to be the case with Hermione. Anyway - let's see what happens when the three friends meet up again ...**

* * *

The following Wednesday the three friends met yet again in The Rowan Tree.

This week they were far more animated, radiant even, than the previous. Their faces glowed; their magic positively palpitated on the air around them.

"Well, this is a damn sight better than last bloody week, I'll say!" exulted Pansy.

Ginny smirked. Hermione simply ate her food.

"So, girls ... following on from our discussion last time, how did we all fair? Did we manage to find someone to fulfil the criteria?"

"Might have done," grinned Ginny.

"Really!" exclaimed Pansy. "Well, you're not the only one, Gin. How 'bout you, Mione? Manage a shag at last?"

Hermione shot her friend a withering look but gave no response.

"Oh well! Time to reveal all, girls. Me first."

Ginny girded herself. She knew full well what Pansy had been aiming at when she had left her last week, and if Lucius' seduction of her was anything to go by, she doubted he would have bothered resisting her friend. For a reason due only to the deep friendship between them all, she wasn't particularly jealous.

Pansy took in a deep breath. "Well, do you recall who we bumped into last week in here?"

The others crossed their arms, waiting for her to continue. They could hardly forget.

"Let's just say ... Lucius Malfoy lived up to our demanding expectations very well indeed." She grinned at them, but her smile faded abruptly when she did not get the resounding squeals of amazement she was expecting.

"Well! I shagged him. Malfoy. Honest. Don't you believe me?"

"We might do," sighed Ginny. "Can you prove it?"

"Well, as a matter of fact ... But, it's a bit, private, and ... used ..." She grimaced a little, but proceeded to withdraw something from her bag. It was a handkerchief, clearly stained, despite her half-hearted efforts to hide it. In the corner was monogrammed an M around which was encircled a serpent.

"There we go. Told you I could. And boy was it worth it. Bloody hell, that man. Still, not going to repeat it. Don't think I could walk if I had him again."

"I agree."

Pansy looked at Ginny quizzically.

"Agree with what?"

"He was worth it."

Pansy's mouth dropped open. "You didn't!"

"I did."

"When?"

"Friday."

"Ginny! You duplicitous cow!"

"Hang on! I didn't know you'd had him first. Anyway, I thought we'd established he was fair game!"

"Well, you wanted me to prove it – you do the same!"

Pansy sat back, her arms folded.

Ginny at first did not humour her, then reaching into her own bag, she too withdrew a stained handkerchief, this one also monogrammed with an M entwined with a serpent.

"That bastard!"

Ginny smiled. "Oh, come on, Pansy. We know what he's like. I could tell he was eyeing us all up. He was like a kid in a candy store. And luckily for him, he could take as much as he wanted. Still ... lucky for us too ... best sex I've ever had. Won't be seeing him again though."

Pansy at last relaxed and grinned at her friend. "Bloody hell! Still ... we are friends after all, and friends do ..."

"Share," Ginny filled in the word for her. They burst out giggling.

"Oy, Gin, come on. Mione must be feeling left out. Sorry, Mione. Did you get out this week? Meet anyone?"

"Yes."

They leaned into her. "Who?"

For a while Hermione simply didn't speak, instead reaching over for a long drink of water.

"Hermione! Go on!"

She wiped the corners of her mouth carefully and at last looked up at them.

"Well, like you said, Lucius Malfoy was eyeing us _all_ up."

For a time her friends could make no sound. Eventually, their incredulity was spluttered out.

"But ..."

"Not you as well?"

"Don't be so surprised."

"But you hate him."

"I'm allowed to change my mind."

"And?"

"And what?"

"What did you think?"

Hermione grinned. "Outstanding."

The three of them looked at each other before laughter erupted from them all.

"I have to say, girls ... kudos to us ... I mean ... _Lucius Malfoy_ ..."

"Hermione ... come on though ... you have to prove it like we did. Did you get a handkerchief too?"

"Not quite. I got ... this."

Hermione reached into her bag and took something out, placing it on the table before them. The M with the serpent wrapped around was clear on it. But Ginny and Pansy merely stared, their mouths hanging open futilely, their normally sharp tongues silenced as they gawped at the object.

It was the key to Malfoy Manor.

* * *

**Brava, Hermione!**

**Thanks for all your lovely reviews. Any for this last chapter would be much appreciated. LL x**


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